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THE   DRAMA  OF   SAVAGE   PEOPLES 


THE 

DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE 

PEOPLES 


BY 

LOOMIS   HAVEMEYER,  Ph.D. 

INSTRUCTOR    OF    ANTHROPOLOGY    AND    GEOGRAPHY    IN    THE 
SHEFFIELD   SCIENTIFIC   SCHOOL   OF    YALE    UNIVERSITY 


NEW   haven:    YALE    UNIVERSITY    PRESS 

LONDON:    HUMPHREY   MILFORD 

OXFORD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

MDCCCCXVI 


COPYRIGHT,     I916 
BY     YALE     UNIVERSITY     PRESS 


Published,  October,  1916 


One  Thousand  Copies,  Printed  from  Type 


TO 
ALBERT  GALLOWAY  KELLER 

WHOSE    INSPIRATION    AND    UNTIRING    HELP 
MADE    THIS    WORK    POSSIBLE 

THIS  BOOK  IS  DEDICATED 


PREFACE 

Under  the  influence  of  the  study  of  evolution, 
especially  social  evolution,  and  of  the  science  of 
society,  it  has  become  a  practice  to  investigate 
the  simpler  stages  of  social  institutions  in  order 
to  be  resolved  as  to  their  essential  nature.  Thus, 
Frazer  has  done  much  with  the  early  history  of 
religion ;  Westermarck,  with  that  of  marriage ; 
and  Tylor  with  that  of  culture  in  general. 

Among  social  institutions  must  be  included  also 
the  drama.  What  can  we  find  out  about  the 
nature  of  the  drama  by  studying  its  earlier  stages  ? 
The  following  work  is  an  attempt  to  go  back  of 
the  Greek  drama,  which  has  currently  been  con- 
ceived of  as  the  source  of  the  dramatic  art,  and 
to  develop  the  more  primitive  phases  of  this 
institution.  Such  a  study  leads  one  among  savage 
peoples  the  world  over,  with  the  result  of  reveal- 
ing, in  their  various  rites,  ceremonies,  dances,  and 
pleasures,  the  germ  of  the  drama.  It  is  very 
crude  in  its  beginning,  yet  it  shows  the  earliest 
known  steps  which  man  took  in  this  line ;  and, 
the  simpler  forms  being  at  length  set  in  the  series, 
we  may  say  that  we  have  carried  one  more 
social  institution  further  back  towards  its  origin. 

There  are  many  parallels  to  be  drawn  between 
the  drama  of  the  savages  and  that  of  the  Greeks 


viii  PREFACE 

and  the  peoples  of  the  Middle  Ages.  These  are 
fields  for  specialists,  and  what  is  put  in  here,  from 
well-attested  authorities,  is  for  the  purpose  of 
connecting  the  savage  drama  with  later  forms, 
rather  than  to  try  to  add  anything  to  these  much 
disputed  subjects. 

The  investigation  of  the  drama  of  the  savage 
peoples  is  a  new  enterprise,  for  no  one  has  hith- 
erto done  more  than  scratched  the  surface  here 
and  there.  There  will  inevitably  appear  incon- 
sistencies or  false  conclusions  which  I  hope  to 
correct  as  I  learn  of  them  from  criticism  and 
from  further  studies  of  my  own. 

It  is  with  great  pleasure  and  gratitude  that  I 
here  acknowledge  the  valuable  assistance  that  I 
have  so  courteously  received  in  the  preparation 
of  this  work  from  Professor  A.  G.  Keller,  Profes- 
sor A.  L.  Bishop,  Professor  T.  D.  Goodell,  Mr.  J. 
R.  Crawford,  of  Yale  University;  Mr.  C.  H. 
Ward  of  The  Taft  School ;  and  for  the  reading  of 
the  manuscript,  to  Miss  Lucy  S.  Taintor  of  Hart- 
ford, Connecticut. 

LOOMIS  HAVEMEYER 
New  Haven,  Connecticut. 
June,  1916. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Preface vii 

Chapter 

I.    The  Early  Development  of  the  Drama     ...  3 

II.     Ceremonies  Connected  with  the  Animal  Food    .  33 

III.  Ceremonies  Dealing  with  Plant  Food  ....  65 

IV.  Points     of     Comparison     between     the     Savage 

Drama  and  that  of  the  Greeks  and  Japanese  95 

V.    Initiation  Ceremonies 125 

VI.     Dramatic  War  Ceremonies 157 

VII.    The  Pleasure  Plays  of  Savage  Peoples    .     .     .  173 

VIII.    Summary 239 

Bibliography 251 

Index 263 


THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLES 


THE  EARLY  DEVELOPMENT  OF  THE 
DRAMA 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  EARLY  DEVELOPMENT  OF  THE 
DRAMA 

ONE  of  the  vital  services  to  knowledge 
performed  by  the  science  of  society  has 
been  the  disclosure  of  the  earlier  and 
simpler  forms  of  societal  institutions.  This 
has  immensely  lengthened  perspective  and  has 
also,  as  a  corollary  to  that,  brought  these  insti- 
tutions into  the  range  of  the  great  modern  doc- 
trine of  evolution.  Orderly  sequences  from  the 
simple  to  the  complex  have  shown  the  latter 
as  arising  naturally  from  the  former,  where 
previously  complex  forms  had  been  conceived 
of  as  appearing  suddenly,  and  also  inexplicably 
save  on  the  hypothesis  of  some  speculative 
necessity  or  coincidence.  A  few  years  ago 
there  could  not  have  been  a  conception  of  the 
evolution  of  marriage  and  the  family,  of  prop- 
erty, or  government. 

Similarly  with  the  drama,  whatever  may  have 
been  suspected  by  certain  advanced  scholars, 
the  youth  of  twenty  years  ago  certainly  did 
not   see  in  the  drama  an  evolution  of  form  out 


4        THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

of  form  in  a  series  of  ascending  complexity. 
And  it  was  not  so  long  ago  that  it  was  not 
thought  worth  while,  even  by  scholars,  to  go 
back  of  the  Greeks  to  secure  a  point  of  depar- 
ture for  the  history  of  plays  and  play  acting. 

It  is  now,  however,  well  recognized  that  the 
place  to  seek  for  the  simple  stages  of  societal 
institutions  is  not  in  so  civilized  a  community 
as,  for  example,  that  of  Greece,  but  among 
savage  peoples.  Here  are  found  the  less  de- 
rived forms  of  the  industrial  organization,  com- 
munal property,  animism,  undeveloped  forms 
of  the  family  and  government.  Ethnographers 
have  been  able  to  explode  many  long-cherished 
ideas  as  to  the  beginnings  of  some  of  the  insti- 
tutions of  civilization.  Until  recently,  for  in- 
stance, it  was  supposed  by  many  people  that 
circumcision  originated  with  and  was  peculiar 
to  the  Jews;  but  a  study  of  savage  peoples 
reveals  the  fact  that  a  great  many  of  them  have 
this  practice.  Thus  out  of  ethnography  comes 
the  lengthening  of  the  backward  perspective 
of  societal  evolution  in  general  and  of  the  evo- 
lution of  the  several  societal  institutions  in 
particular.  No  one,  so  far  as  we  know,  has 
tried  to  piece  together  the  earlier  stages  of  the 
drama  so  that  we  may  attain  to  a  wider  sweep 


EARLY  DEVELOPMENT  OF  DRAMA       5 

of  this  social  form  through  societal  evolution. 
Historians  of  the  drama  have  not  been  trained  or 
informed  along  the  lines  of  research  that  reveal 
the  simpler,  more  primitive  stages;  and  anthro- 
pologists and  sociologists  have  paid  less  atten- 
tion to  this  part  of  the  social  field  than  they 
have  to  the  evolution  of  societal  forms  more 
closely  connected  with  society's  major  and  inevi- 
table interests.  When  they  have  indicated  the 
importance  of  the  former,  it  has  been  in  passing. 

In  the  case  of  the  topic  now  before  us,  Sumner 
laid  out  for  future  study  a  section  on  societal 
self-gratification,  parallel  with  self-maintenance 
and  self-perpetuation,  and  including  the  drama, 
but  he  never  developed  it.  Frazer  has  a  great 
mass  of  material  on  the  vegetation  ceremonies, 
but  that  is  in  connection  with  his  major  interest 
—  religion.  Groos,  in  his  book  "The  Play  of 
Man,"  devotes  himself  more  to  actual  play  in 
the  general  meaning  of  the  word  than  to  the 
drama.  And  so  it  is  with  many  other  writers 
on  anthropologic  and  sociological  subjects;  they 
touch  on  matters  closely  connected  with  the 
drama,  but  it  is  nearly  always  from  another 
point  of  view  than  that  of  the  dramatic. 

Doubtless  in  the  minds  of  many  people  there 
is  a  vague  idea  that  savages  do  act,  though  in 


6   THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

a  crude  and  boisterous  manner,  and  that  such 
acting  has  significance  for  them,  although  the 
fact  is  merely  of  curious  interest  to  a  man  of 
higher  culture.  What  we  mean  to  show  is 
that  the  savage  drama  is  the  lineal  antecedent 
of  all  modern  forms,  and  hence  that  a  knowledge 
of  it  is  needful,  in  order  to  fill  out  the  per- 
spective and  to  afford  a  lapse  of  time  sufficient 
to  allow  a  conception  of  evolution  in  this  social 
form.  Dramatic  representation  is  enacted  by 
practically  all  the  "lower"  races  in  some  primi- 
tive form;  and  among  many  tribes  it  is  highly 
developed.  To  most  of  them  it  is  of  the  utmost 
importance,  for  through  it  they  not  only  seek 
relations  with  the  imaginary  environment  of 
ghosts  and  spirits  and  keep  the  gods  on  their 
side  m  the  struggle  for  existence,  but  derive 
also  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  through  the  satis- 
faction of  the  dramatic  "instinct."  A  study 
of  ethnography  shows,  in  many  instances,  not 
only  the  dramatic  worship  of  the  gods  of  vege- 
tation, as  in  Greece,  but  also  a  very  much 
higher  stage  of  art.  Before  the  Spanish  Con- 
quest, for  example,  the  Aztecs  had  developed 
the  art  of  acting  to  a  high  degree  of  perfection.^ 

1  Biart,  "The  Aztecs,"  pp.  302  ff.;    Buckham,  "The  Theatre  of 
the  Greeks,"  p.  99. 


EARLY  DEVELOPMENT  OF  DRAMA       7 

It  would  be  possible  to  amass  a  great  deal 
of  evidence  to  show  that  the  propensity  for  imi- 
tation, which  is  the  basis  of  the  drama,  appears 
even  in  many  of  the  lower  animals.  "A  tiny 
kitten  creeps  from  its  nest,  still  blind,  but  as 
soon  as  even  one  eye  is  open,  it  toys  with  every 
rolling,  running,  sliding,  or  fluttering  object 
within  its  reach.  If  a  cat  keeps  running  after 
such  a  ball,  in  time  a  sort  of  role  consciousness 
comes  to  her,  something  like  that  which  accom- 
panies human  actions  that  are  intentionally 
make-believe.  When  the  ball  stops  rolling,  the 
kitten  starts  it  up  again  by  a  gentle  tap  with 
her  paw  in  order  to  begin  the  game  again.  .  .  . 
This  seems  like  a  conscious  self-deception,  in- 
volving some  of  the  most  subtle  psychological 
elements  of  the  pleasure  that  play  gives."  ^  A 
kitten  or  a  dog  that  plays  with  a  ball  as  though 
it  were  an  animal  is  not  in  the  least  fooled  into 
thinking  that  it  is  alive  and  good  to  eat.  If  he 
only  chased  the  rolling  object  once  and  then 
dropped  it  when  he  found  no  life  there,  the  con- 
clusion would  be  that  he  did  not  care  for  it 
as  a  mere  object  of  play,  but  when  a  dog  will 

'  Groos,  "Play  of  Animals,"  pp.  130,  132,  xix;  H.  Spencer, 
"Principles  of  Psychology,"  Vol.  I,  pp.  629  fF.;  G.  J.  Romanes, 
"Animal  Intelligence." 


8   THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

beg  to  have  a  ball  thrown  for  him,  we  may 
infer  that  it  is  the  play  part  that  he  enjoys. 
Animals  will  very  often  imitate  hunting  for  the 
pleasure  they  get  out  of  it,  when  they  know 
perfectly  well  that  there  is  no  prey  to  be 
gotten. 

Ridgeway,  after  describing  sympathetic  magic, 
of  which  we  shall  have  more  to  say  later,  tells 
the  following  story  of  a  cat  which  well  illustrates 
this  dramatic  "instinct"  in  animals.  "It  may 
be  that  this  belief  in  the  efficacy  of  some  mimetic 
representation  of  a  successful  hunt  may  be  found 
even  among  the  lower  animals.  The  following 
fact  may  point  in  this  direction.  A  tabby  cat, 
of  perhaps  more  than  average  intelligence,  was 
seated  on  my  knees  one  winter  evening  beside 
the  fireplace.  A  mouse  came  out  from  under 
the  further  end  of  the  fender,  whereupon  she 
sprang  from  my  knee  and  caught  it.  Next 
evening  she  repeated  the  same  performance, 
getting  up  and  sitting  on  my  knee,  and  then 
suddenly  springing  across  the  hearthrug  to  the 
spot  where  she  had  secured  her  prey  on  the 
previous  night.  Almost  every  evening  that 
winter  she  repeated  the  experiment,  never  spring- 
ing at  the  imaginary  mouse  from  any  other  place 
than  from  my  knee.     The  following  winter  she 


EARLY  DEVELOPMENT  OF  DRAMA       9 

recommenced  the  mimetic  performance  of  her 
successful  hunt,  and  the  next  winter  she  again 
did  the  same.  It  was  only  last  winter  that 
she  finally  abandoned  her  attempts  to  elicit 
a  mouse  by  repeating  the  action  which  had  once 
proved  eminently  successful.  I  may  add  that 
in  the  interval  the  fireplace  had  been  completely 
altered.  The  same  cat  when  searching  for  mice 
or  when  listening  to  them  when  beyond  her 
reach  does  not  growl,  but  addresses  them  in  the 
dulcet  tones  of  endearment  which  she  uses  to 
her    kittens."  ^ 

The  desire  to  imitate  shows  itself  to  a  very 
marked  degree  among  children  the  world  over. 
In  savage  communities  practically  the  only 
amusement  of  the  children  consists  in  imitating 
the  more  serious  acts  and  experiences  of  their 
parents.  Thus  they  pick  up  the  mores,  they 
build  small  houses,  they  hunt  and  fish  as  they 
have  seen  their  fathers  do.^  The  Australian 
boy  sets  up  housekeeping  with  his  gin.^  While 
one  boy  sits  peacefully  by  the  door  of  his  hut, 
another  rushes  up  and  tries  to  abduct  his  wife, 
just  as  he  will  do  in  later  life.     A  make-believe 

'  Ridgcway,  "Origin  of  Tragedy,"  pp.  io6fF. 
*  K.  Groos,  "The  Play  of  Man,"  p.  302;  Tyler,  "Primitive  Cul- 
ture," pp.  72  fF.;  Codrington,  "The  Melanesians,"  pp.  341-2. 
'  Gin,  Australian  word  for  "woman." 


lo      THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

fight  or  even  an  imitation  of  a  mock  fight  results 
and  the  stronger  wins  the  girl.^ 

The  powerful  influence  upon  civiHzed  children, 
when  they  are  brought  into  contact  with  savages, 
is  well  illustrated  by  the  following  example 
recounted  by  Signe  Rink,  who  spent  her  child- 
hood in  Greenland.  "Like  all  European  chil- 
dren in  the  country,  my  brother  and  sister  and 
I  had  a  genuine  passion  for  everything  per- 
taining to  Greenland,  and  accordingly,  as  soon 
as  the  door  was  shut  by  our  elders,  we  tried  in 
every  way  possible  and  by  all  sorts  of  mimicry 
to  identify  ourselves  with  our  playmates.  My 
brother  got  himself  up  as  a  seal  hunter  from  head 
to  foot,  and  I  became  an  Eskimo  woman  with 
a  waddling  gait,  who  was  sternly  forbidden  to 
leave    the    house."  ^ 

A  child  is  forever  imitating  the  things  which 
he  hears  and  sees.  These  may  be  certain  move- 
ments and  actions  of  his  parents,  or  other  people, 
with  whom  he  comes  in  contact;  or  perhaps 
some  story  such  as  Robinson  Crusoe  catches 
his  fancy.  In  either  case  he  proceeds  to  act 
out  the  thrilling  adventures  in  his  backyard. 
But  it  is  not  necessarily   an    actual    person    nor 

•  N.  W.  Thomas,  "The  Natives  of  Australia,"  pp.  13 1-2. 
^  K.  Groos,  "The  Play  of  Man,"  p.  304;   J.  Sully,  "Studies  in 
Childhood." 


EARLY  DEVELOPMENT  OF  DRAMA     ii 

one  embodied  in  a  story,  whom  the  child  imitates. 
"During  a  long  and  complicated  play  he  will 
be  a  doorpost,  a  tree,  a  seat,  a  wagon,  and  a 
locomotive,  and  endeavor  by  his  motions  and 
carriage  to  support  these  bold  illusions."  '  At 
times  he  will  take  the  part  of  animals,  and,  in 
order  to  carry  out  the  deception,  he  will  bark 
like  a  dog,  snarl  like  a  cat,  fly  like  a  bird,  and 
swim  like  a  fish.^ 

There  has  been  much  discussion  as  to  whether 
the  imitative  desire  in  man  could  be  called  an 
instinct.  Aristotle  thinks  that  "Poetry  in  gen- 
eral seems  to  have  sprung  from  two  causes,  each 
of  them  lying  deep  in  our  nature.  First,  the 
instinct  of  imitation  is  implanted  in  man  from 
childhood,  one  difference  between  him  and  other 
animals  being  that  he  is  the  most  imitative  of 
creatures;  and  through  imitation  he  acquires  his 
earliest  learning.  And,  indeed,  every  one  feels 
a  natural  pleasure  in  things  imitated."  ^ 

Groos,  in  his  book,  "The  Play  of  Animals," 
calls  imitation  an  instinct,  but  in  his  later  vol- 

^  K.  Groos,  "The  Play  of  Man,"  p.  301. 

*  K.  Groos,  "The  Play  of  Man,"  p.  301;  J.  Sully,  "Studies  in 
Childhood,"  pp.  25,  36  ff. ;  Magnin,  "  Les  Origines  du  Theatre 
Moderne,"  pp.  9  ff. 

'Aristotle,  "Poetics,"  IV,  2-4;  S.  H.  Butcher,  "Aristotle's 
Theory  of  Poetry  and  Fine  Arts,"  p.  15. 


12      THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

lime  on  "The  Play  of  Man"  he  repudiates  his 
former  position.  He  says  that,  once  granted 
the  fact  of  instinct  at  all,  an  affirmative  answer 
seems  imperative  to  one  who  is  familiar  with  the 
workings  of  this  impulse  in  men  and  animals. 
"On  these  grounds  I  have  committed  myself  in 
my  former  work  to  the  designation  of  imitation 
as  an  inborn  instinct,  and  yet  I  must  admit  the 
logical  inconsistency  of  this,  since  the  very  con- 
ception of  instinct  dispenses  with  the  use  of 
imitation."  ^  For  our  present  purposes,  however, 
it  is  not  necessary  to  go  too  far  into  the  field 
of  psychology  in  order  to  determine  whether 
this  deep-rooted  desire  to  imitate  is  an  instinct, 
or  whether  it  has  become  embedded  in  man  by 
a  long  process  of  social  selection.  It  is  a  fact 
that  this  desire  does  exist;  ^  and  the  attempt 
here  is  to  build  up  a  structure  composed  of 
man's  efforts  to  satisfy  this  desire.^  Much 
has    been   written  on    what    may    be    called    the 

'  Groos,  "The  Play  of  Man,"  p.  284. 

*  Chambers,  Encyclopedia,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  660. 

'  "  I  he  Drama  owes  its  origin  to  that  principle  of  imitation 
which  is  inherent  in  human  nature.  Hence  its  invention,  like  that 
of  painting,  sculpture,  and  the  other  imitative  arts,  cannot  properly 
be  restricted  to  any  one  specific  age  or  people.  Scenical  representa- 
tions are  found  to  have  existed  among  various  nations,  so  totally 
separated,  by  situation  and  circumstances,  as  to  make  it  impossible 
for  any  one  to  have  borrowed  the  idea  from  another.  In  Greece 
and  Hindostan  the  Dramatic  art  was  at  the  same  period  in  high 


EARLY  DEVELOPMENT  OF  DRAMA     13 

conscious  drafna,  that  is,  the  results  which  came 
about  after  man's  feelings  had  become  so  refined 
that  he  could  express  them  in  the  form  of  a 
definite  play.  Before  they  took  this  form,  that  is, 
before  these  dramatic  feelings  of  man  developed 
to  demand  the  real  play  with  a  well-devel- 
oped plot,  there  was  a  time  when  the  expres- 
sions of  these  desires  to  imitate  were  very  crude. 
The}'^  appeared,  the  world  over,  in  the  religious 
rites  and  ceremonies  of  people  who  were  living 
on  a  very  low  stage  of  civilization.  In  other 
words,  the  savage  man  gratified  his  desire, 
which  to-day  among  civilized  peoples  is  satisfied 
by  the  well-developed  plays  of  the  theatre,  by 
acting  in  his  rough  and  awkward  way  the  stories 
of  his  everyday  life  and  the  myths  and  legends 
which  had  been  passed  on  to  him  by  his  fore- 
fathers.    This    may    be    called    the    unconscious 

repute  and  perfection,  whilst  Arabia  and  Persia,  the  intervening 
countries,  were  utter  strangers  to  this  kind  of  entertainment.  The 
Chinese  again  have  for  ages  possessed  a  regular  national  theatre. 
The  ancient  Peruvians  had  their  tragedies,  comedies,  and  inter- 
ludes; and  even  among  the  savage  and  solitary  islanders  of  the 
South  Sea,  a  rude  kind  of  play  was  observed  by  the  navigators  who 
discovered  them.  Each  of  these  peoples  must  have  invented  the 
Drama  for  themselves.  The  only  point  of  connection  was  the  same- 
ness of  the  cause,  which  led  tn  these  several  independent  inven- 
tions, —  the  instinctive  propensity  to  imitation,  and  the  pleasure 
arising  from  it  when  successfully  exerted."  This  is  a  very  good 
example  of  parallelism.    Buckham,  "Theatre  of  the  Greeks,"  p.  99. 


14      THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

drama  of  the  savages.  It  is  the  intention  here 
to  treat  primarily  of  these  rites  and  ceremonies, 
to  examine  the  facts  which  have  been  collected 
by  the  ethnographers,  so  that  the  drama  existent 
among  primitive  peoples  may  be  better  under- 
stood, and  thus  to  draw  back  another  fold  of 
the  curtain  which  conceals  so  many  of  the  origins 
of  the  civilized  institutions. 

There  is  a  twofold  purpose  to  this  imitation 
characteristic  of  savage  peoples.  The  first  and 
simplest  is  that  it  gives  a  pleasurable  sensation 
similar  to  the  real  experience,  and  thus  appeals 
to  the  animal  in  man.  And,  second,  it  enables 
man  to  convey  his  impressions  to  others  —  i.e. 
it  is  a  form  of  language.  As  it  is  in  this  latter 
phase  that  the  drama  has  its  real  origin,  it  is 
necessary  that  a  brief  outline  be  given  of  the 
way  in  which  imitative  language  itself  developed. 

One  of  the  first  means  which  men  used  to 
communicate  with  each  other  was  the  gesture,^ 
at  first  direct  and  simple,  whereby  a  person  could 
make  his  thoughts  known  to  those  about  him. 
A  man,  for  example,  wished  to  convey  to  his 
friend   the  story  of  a  hunt,   or   tell   him   of  the 

'  W.  D.  Whitney,  in  "Language  and  the  Study  of  Language," 
says,  "It  is  past  all  reasonable  question  that,  in  the  earliest  com- 
munication betsveen  human  beings,  gesture  long  played  consider- 
able, if  not  the  principal  part." 


EARLY  DEVELOPMENT  OF  DRAMA     15 

everyday  things  of  life;  but,  because  of  his  lack 
of  adequate  speech,  he  was  obliged  to  act  out 
the  various  occurrences,  supplementing  the  action 
wherever  possible  with  the  cries  of  the  animals, 
or  with  the  few  simple  words  which  he  knew. 

At  this  period  of  his  history,  man  was  just 
beginning  to  have  ideas  which  raised  him  above 
the  sphere  of  the  lower  animals.  His  wants  and 
satisfactions  were  of  the  simplest  kind,  and  he 
had  little  need  of  a  more  complex  means  of 
communication.^  As  population  increased,  as 
men  began  to  live  in  larger  groups,  and  as  their 
wants  became  more  numerous  and  complicated, 
there  developed  a  more  satisfactory  means  of 
conveying  ideas.  ,  The  gestures  still  used  came 
to  be  much  more  derived  and  complex.  Little 
by  little  there  developed,  where  conditions  were 
favorable,  a  definite  sign  language  which  could 
give  expression  even  to  abstract  thoughts.  "The 
nearest  approach  to  such  action  that  is  now 
possible,  is  where  two  people,  wholly  ignorant 
of  one  another's  speech,  meet  and  need  to  com- 
municate —  an  imperfect  correspondence,  because 
each  is  trained  to  habits  of  expression,  and  works 

^  Peter  Giles,  Encyclopedia  Briiannica,  under  heading  "Phil- 
ology." Professor  Sayce  of  Oxford  says  in  this  connection,  "Man 
is  man  by  virtue  of  language  and  it  was  gestures  which  first  made 
language  possible."     "Development  of  Language,"  Vol.  I,  p.   io6. 


1 6   THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

consciously,  and  with  the  advantage  of  long 
experience  towards  making  himself  understood. 
Yet  it  is  good  for  its  main  purpose.  What  they 
do  to  reach  mutual  comprehension  is  like  what 
the  first  speechless  man,  unconsciously  and  in- 
finitely more  slowly,  learned  to  do;  face,  hands, 
body,  voice,  are  all  put  to  use."  ^ 

Even  to-day  among  some  savage  peoples  their 
spoken  language  is  so  very  meagre  that  without 
their  gestures  it  would  sometimes  be  impossible 
to  know  of  what  they  were  speaking.^  The  fol- 
lowing authoritative  instances  taken  at  random 
will  tend  to  illustrate  this  point.  "The  Zufii 
Indians  require  much  facial  contortion  and 
bodily  gesticulation  in  order  to  make  their 
sentences  perfectly  intelligible."  ^  "The  lan- 
guage of  the  Bushmen  needs  so  many  signs  to 
eke  out  its  meaning  that  they  are  unintelligible 
in  the  dark,  and  the  Arapahoes  can  hardly  con- 
verse with  one  another  if  no  light  is  present."  * 

^  Peter  Giles  in  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  under  heading  "Phil- 
ology." 

'  Sir  John  Lubbock  says,  "Even  the  lowest  races  of  which  we 
have  any  account  possess  a  language,  imperfect  though  it  may  be, 
and  eked  out  to  a  great  extent  by  signs."  "Origin  of  Civilization," 
p.   275. 

'  Spencer,  "Principles  of  Sociology,"  Vol.  I,  p.  136,  quoting  Pop. 
S.  M.,  1876,  p.  580;  Burton,  "City  of  the  Sair«s,"  p.  151. 

*  Lubbock,  "Origin  of  Civilization,"  p.  277. 


EARLY   DEVELOPMENT  OF  DRAMA     17 

The  same  holds  true  of  the  Pygmies  of  Africa.^ 
In  speaking  of  the  Tasmanians,  Dr.  MilHgan 
says,  "They  use  signs  to  eke  out  the  meaning 
of  monosyllabic  expressions,  and  to  give  force, 
precision,  and  character  to  vocal  sounds." 
Spix  and  Martins,^  in  describing  some  of  the 
low  Brazilian  tribes,  say  that  they  complete 
by  signs  the  meaning  of  their  scanty  sen- 
tences. 

The  best  example  to-day  of  the  sign  language 
is  to  be  found  among  the  Plains  Indians  of 
North  America.  It  was  developed  by  them  under 
the  demands  of  a  peculiar  situation.  Tribes 
prone  to  wander  widely,  yet  speaking  a  variety 
of  mutually  unintelligible  dialects,  had  need  of 
a  common  means  of  communication.  When, 
with  the  nomadic  tendency  heightened  and 
strengthened  by  the  use  of  the  horse,  this  need 
arose,  the  Indian  reverted  unconsciously  to  an 
earlier  stage  of  the  art  of  thought-transference, 
there  to  develop  the  unique  language  of  the 
Plains.^  Much  of  the  history  of  these  tribes 
has  been  recounted  to  the  white  man  by  the 
sign    language,    and    many   of  the   early   treaties 

'  H.  H.  Johnston,  "Uganda,"  Vol.  II,  p.  536. 

*  Spix  and  Martius,  "Reise  in  Brazilien,"  1823,  Vol.  I,  p.  385. 

'  W.  P.  Clark,  "The  Indian  Sign  Language,"  p.  15. 


1 8      THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

between  the  colonists  and  the  Indians  were 
drawn  up  through  its  medium. 

Thus  it  was  that  even  in  the  very  early  his- 
tory of  the  race  the  first  element  of  the  drama, 
namely,  imitation,  appeared,  and  the  purpose  of 
such  imitation  was  to  express  those  ideas  which 
could  not  be  conveyed  by  any  other  means  at 
the  command  of  the  savage  mind.^ 

In  this  connection  Miss  Harrison  says,  "When 
the  men  return  from  the  war,  the  hunt,  the 
journey,  and  reenact  their  doings,  they  are  at 
first  undoubtedly  representing  a  particular  action 
that  actually  has  taken  place.  Their  drama  is 
history,  or  at  least  narrative;  they  say,  in  effect, 
that  such  and  such  a  thing  did  happen  in  the 
past.  Everything  with  the  savage  begins  in 
this  particular  way.  But  it  is  easy  to  see  that, 
if  the  dramatic  commemoration  be  often  repeated, 
the  action  tends  to  cut  itself  loose  from  the 
particular  in  which  it  arose  and  become  gen- 
eralized, abstracted,  as  it  were.  The  particular 
hunt,   journey,    battle,    is   in   the   lapse   of  time 

^  Major-Gen.  H.  L.  Scott,  an  eminent  authority  on  sign  language, 
in  answer  to  the  question,  "Was  the  drama  an  outgrowth  of  this 
early  gesture  language?"  said,  "This  pantomime  was  the  effort  to 
express  thought  and  convey  meaning  by  the  Imitation  of  Actions, 
Qualities  or  Attributes  by  gesture  movements,  and  there  is  no  doubt 
whatever  in  my  mind  that  this  was  the  beginning  of  the  drama." 


EARLY  DEVELOPMENT  OF   DRAMA     19 

forgotten  or  suppLinted  by  a  succession  of  simi- 
lar hunts,  journeys,  battles,  and  the  dance 
comes  to  commemorate  and  embody  hunting, 
journeying,  fighting.  Like  children  they  play 
not  at  a  funeral  but  at  'funerals,'  'births,' 
'battles,'  what  not.  To  put  it  grammatically, 
the  singular  comes  first,  but  the  singular  gets 
you  no  further.  The  plural  detaches  you  from 
the  single  concrete  fact;  and  all  the  world  over, 
the  plural,  the  neuter  plural,  as  we  call  it,  begets 
the  abstract.  Moreover,  the  time  is  no  longer 
particular;  it  is  undefined,  not  what  happened, 
but  what  happens.  Such  a  dance  generalized, 
universalized,  is  material  for  the  next  stage, 
the  dance  pre-done."^ 

It  is  a  commonplace,  as  we  have  seen  —  though 
the  bearing  of  commonplaces  is  not  always 
appreciated  —  that  the  normal  child  is  forever 
living  in  a  world  created  by  his  own  imagina- 
tion, filled  with  personages  about  whom  he  has 
heard. 2  He  talks  and  plays  with  these  imagi- 
nary people  as  though  they  were  real.  There 
can  be  but  little  difference  between  the  mental 
processes  of  such  a  child  and  those  of  the  savage 
who  conceives  that  the  world  about  him  is  filled 

^  Harrison,  "Themis,"  p.  44. 

*  B.  Matthews,  "The  Development  of  the  Drama,"  pp.  8  ff. 


20      THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

with  a  multitude  of  spirits  who  are  forever 
seeking  to  do  him  harm.  The  chief  difference 
Hes  in  the  fact  that  the  savage  has  a  serious 
purpose  in  his  make-beheve,  while  the  child  is 
merely  enjoying  himself  in  satisfying  his  imita- 
tive  desire. 

As  the  mind  of  man  becomes  more  fully  devel- 
oped and  as  he  has  time  to  think  of  other  things 
than  the  mere  creature  wants,  his  attention  is 
turned  to  such  questions  as  his  own  origin,  and 
that  of  many  of  the  things  with  which  he  is 
surrounded.  As  there  are  no  written  records 
to  give  him  facts,  and  as  he  has  not  enough 
scientific  knowledge  to  give  him  the  power  of 
accurate  reasoning,  his  imagination  is  given  full 
play.  The  result  is  the  creation  of  numerous 
myths  and  legends  dealing  with  all  such  phe- 
nomena. These  are  intimately  bound  up  with 
his  religion,  and  hence  a  sketch  of  his  beliefs  is 
necessary  as  forming  the  basis  for  the  major 
portion  of  this  book. 

The  savage  has  peopled  the  world  about  him 
with  a  host  of  spirits.  They  occupy  not  only 
the  air,  but  also  every  animate  and  inanimate 
object.  According  to  his  way  of  thinking,  most 
of  them  are  naturally  unfriendly  and  are  seeking 
by  all  possible  means  to  do  him  an  injury.    Hence 


EARLY    DEVELOPMENT  OF   DRAMA     21 

it  is  only  natural  that  he  should  try  to  keep  in 
their  good  graces  and  thus  ward  off  much  harm 
which  would  otherwise  come  to  him. 

Herbert  Spencer  has  so  carefully  worked  out 
this  portion  of  the  subject  in  his  "Principles 
of  Sociology"^  that  it  would  be  merely  repeti- 
tion to  go  over  the  ground  again  and  show  how 
the  religious  idea  first  dawned  on  the  savage 
mind.  But  several  of  the  aspects  of  primitive 
religious  belief,  bearing  vitally  upon  the  subject 
in  hand,  may  be  recalled. 

To  the  primitive  peoples,  the  idea  of  motion 
and  life  are  very  intimately  associated.  They 
observe  that  when  a  man  dies,  the  power  of 
movement  which  he  possessed  during  life  ceases, 
and  they  reason  that  it  has  gone  away  with  the 
spirit.  Hence  it  must  have  been  the  spirit 
which  caused  the  motion.  But  there  is  move- 
ment also  in  a  plant  blown  by  the  wind,  and  in 
a  flowing  river;  consequently  these  must  have 
spirits  as  well.  Gradually  the  primitive  man 
gets  the  idea  that  all  animate  and  inanimate 
objects  have  spirits.  This  is  only  one  step 
removed  from  the  belief  that  many  of  the  spirits 
of  the  dead  pass  into  the  trees,  the  rivers,  and 

>  Chs.  XIII,  XIV,  Vol.  I,  part  i.  Also  E.  B.  Tylor,  "Anthro- 
pology," Ch.  XIV. 


22      THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

the  stones.  With  these  spirits  of  the  dead  about 
him  on  all  sides,  the  savage  trembles  for  his 
safety.  When  an  enemy  was  alive  he  could  be 
seen  and  dealt  with  accordingly,  but  after  death 
the  enemy's  invisible  spirit  could  wreak  ven- 
geance, and  there  would  be  no  redress.  He 
conceived  of  this  vast  horde  of  beings  as  always 
ready  to  do  him  an  injury  and  believed  that  he 
could  escape  only  by  the  performance  of  the 
strictest  rites  and  ceremonies  in  their  behalf. 
As  time  went  on,  the  demands  of  the  spirits 
in  this  respect  became  so  exacting  that  the  ordi- 
nary man  could  not  possibly  attend  to  the  elab- 
orate ritual.  Hence,  there  developed  a  priestly 
class  whose  time  was  completely  absorbed  in 
communication  with  the  souls  of  the  dead. 
Such  priests  were  the  connecting  link  between 
man  and  his  unseen  oppressors.  They  could 
coerce  the  gods  into  granting  things  to  man. 
If  a  member  of  a  tribe  desired  some  special 
favor  from  the  spirits,  he  would  have  recourse 
to  the  priest  or  medicine  man,  whom  he  would 
ask  how  he  might  obtain  the  desired  gift,  or 
else  ask  that  an  appeal  be  made  directly  to  the 
gods  in  his  behalf.  In  the  latter  case  the  priests 
became  the  chief  actors  in  the  religious  dramas 
of  petition. 


EARLY   DEVELOPMENT  OF  DRAMA     23 

In  order  to  carry  on  all  such  intercourse  with 
the  spirit  world,  it  was  necessary  that  a  language 
known  to  the  dwellers  in  this  world  and  in  the 
next  should  be  employed.  Inasmuch  as  the 
members  of  the  spirit  world  at  one  time  occu- 
pied this  earth,  and,  though  departed,  remained 
anthropomorphic,  the  savage  man  thought  that 
requests  must  be  addressed  to  them  in  a  language 
which  they  would  understand.  Having  actually 
lived  at  a  time  when  the  spoken  language  was 
meagre,  the  dead  had  communicated  with  each 
other  much  by  means  of  signs  and  gestures. 
Hence  the  desires  of  man  should  now  be  pre- 
sented to  them  in  the  same  terms.  This  is 
one  reason  why  the  savage,  when  he  wants  the 
gods  or  spirits  to  do  something  in  his  behalf, 
proceeds  to  dramatize  (act  out)  his  request, 
that  is,  to  give  a  rehearsal  of  a  hoped-for  per- 
formance. When  rain  is  wanted  for  the  crops, 
a  man  will  climb  a  tree,  and  out  of  a  bucket 
pour  a  large  amount  of  water  on  the  ground, 
thus  symbolizing  the  falling  of  the  rain.  Before 
going  out  on  a  hunt,  he  will  go  through  the 
motions  of  killing  the  animal  with  the  hope 
that  the  gods  will  see  his  actions  and  grant  him 
success.  If  a  man  has  an  enemy  whom  he 
wishes  to  injure,  he  will  make  a  small  clay  or  wax 


24      THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

image  of  him  and  fill  this  with  nails,  trusting 
that  the  actual  body  of  the  person  will  thus  be 
filled  with  pain.  This  is  known  as  imitative 
or  sympathetic  magic. ^  "Led  astray  by  his 
ignorance  of  the  true  causes  of  things,  primitive 
man  believed  that  in  order  to  produce  the  great 
phenomena  of  nature  on  which  his  life  depended, 
he  had  only  to  imitate  them,  and  that  imme- 
diately, by  a  secret  sympathy  or  mystic  in- 
fluence, the  little  drama  which  he  acted  in  forest 
glade  or  mountain  dell,  on  desert  plain  or  wind- 
swept shore,  would  be  taken  up  and  repeated 
by  mightier  actors  on  a  vaster  stage."  - 

Thus  we  see  that  sympathetic  magic  forms 
the  basis  of  a  large  part  of  the  serious  savage 
drama.  It  makes  little  difference  what  the 
savage  wants,  whether  it  be  rain,  food,  or  sun- 
shine, he  feels  that  he  can  obtain  it  best  by 
acting  out  his  desires. 

Among  most  peoples,  when  a  boy  reaches  the 

1  Henry's  Travels  Among  the  Northern  and  Western  Indies, 
quoted  by  Rev.  Jedediah  Morse,  Report  to  the  Secretary  of  War 
of  the  U.  S.  (New  Haven,  1822),  Appendix,  p.,  102;  Peter  Jones, 
History  of  Ojibway  Indians,  p.  146;  W.  H.  Keating,  "Narrative  of 
an  Expedition  to  the  Source  of  St.  Peter's  River,  (London,  1825), 
Vol.  II,  p.  159.  This  is  common  in  some  form  among  practically 
all  peoples  of  the  world.    Theocritus,  Dialog.  II,  no. 

2  Frazer,  "Golden  Bough,"  Vol.  II,  p.  no;   Barnett,  "The  Greek 
Drama,"  pp.  2-3. 


EARLY   DEVELOPMENT  OF   DRAMA     25 

age  of  puberty,  the  time  has  arrived  when  he 
should  be  taught  the  early  history  of  his  people. 
In  the  absence  of  records  or  texts  certain  of  the 
older  members  of  the  totem,  into  which  he  is 
to  be  initiated,  undertake  his  training.  At  the 
time  when  the  spoken  language  was  very  limited, 
these  legends  of  the  past  were  acted  out,  and 
they  became  so  impressed  upon  the  mind  of  the 
youth  that  he  never  forgot  them.  The  ritual 
and  ceremony  with  which  they  were  acted  among 
some  peoples  extended  over  years,  until  each 
stage  from  the  very  beginning  had  been  por- 
trayed. As  the  spoken  language  became  more 
efficient,  it  came  to  be  the  custom  for  an  older 
man  to  stand  beside  the  boy  and  explain  care- 
fully the  significance  of  each  movement  of  the 
actors.  This  is  true  even  now  in  Australia, 
where  a  well-developed  initiatory  drama  takes 
place,  and  here  the  interpretation  includes  not 
only  the  acting,  but  also  the  lines  and  music. 
Among  the  native  Australians,  practically  the 
whole  educational  training  of  the  youth  is 
obtained  through  these  plays.  As  will  be  shown 
later  on,  he  is  taught  to  hunt  and  fish  through 
the  graphic  representations  of  certain  hunting 
and  fishing  expeditions,  although  in  these  lines 
his    most    effective    training    comes   through  the 


26      THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

actual  hunting  and  fishing  trips.  The  moral 
standards  of  the  tribe  are  made  clear  to  him  by 
the  acting  out  of  those  things  which  he  should 
or  more  particularly  what  he  should  not  do, 
and,  as  has  been  said,  his  historical  education 
is  obtained  through  the  plays  which  picture  for 
him  the  past.^ 

These  totem  ceremonies  have  another  impor- 
tant function  besides  that  of  teaching  the  boys. 
In  many  other  countries  besides  Australia  the 
animal  used  as  a  totem  by  one  group  forms  the 
food  of  another.  And  although  the  members 
of  a  group  are  not  allowed  to  eat  their  own 
totem  animal,  they  are  expected  to  preserve 
a  supply  of  that  animal  in  the  country. ^  This 
they  attempt  to  do  by  means  of  the  sympathetic 
magic  ceremonies,  which,  while  being  performed, 
serve  the  double  purpose  of  teaching  the  boys 
and  increasing  the  amount  of  food.  If  there 
happens  to  be  a  time  in  Australia  when  there 
are    no    initiation    ceremonies    being    performed, 

'  G.  F.  S.  Elliott,  "Romance  of  Savage  Life,"  p.  228.  "Most 
native  dances  and  songs  are  intended  to  point  a  moral  or  to  be  of 
the  nature  of  a  sermon.  There  is  no  history,  geography  or  scientific 
literature  amongst  savages,  so  that  dance  and  song  are  often  tribal 
records  or,  indeed,  of  the  nature  of  tracts." 

2  Spencer  and  Gillen,  "Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia," 
p.  149. 


EARLY   DEVELOPMENT  OF   DRAMA     27 

and  if  the  food  supply  is  low,  the  totem  plays 
are  enacted  merely  with  the  hope  that  the 
animals  will  increase.^ 

The  life  of  most  savages  is  a  continual  struggle 
not  only  with  nature,  but  also  with  men.  The 
religious  sympathetic  magic  ceremonies,  which 
have  been  mentioned,  shows  his  means  of  try- 
ing to  overcome  the  unfavorable  forces  in  the 
unseen  world.  In  order  to  vanquish  hostile 
man,  he  employs  his  war  dances  or  plays. 
According  to  his  way  of  thinking,  these  perform 
a  double  service.  The  first,  again,  is  that  of 
sympathetic  magic.  By  acting  out  the  process 
which  they  hope  to  use  in  exterminating  their 
enemies,  they  are  not  only  asking  the  assistance 
of  the  gods,  but  are  beseeching  them  to  employ 
such  means  to  accomplish  the  result.  The  second 
purpose  is  to  work  the  actors  up  to  the  highest 
pitch  of  excitement  so  that  they  will  be  able 
to  rush  into  battle  and  display  their  greatest 
bravery  in  the  face  of  danger.  Of  all  the 
serious  savage  dramatic  ceremonies  this  one  alone 
directly  produces  concrete  results.  Warriors  do 
indeed  reach  such  a  state,  induced  through  these 
violent  war  dances,  that  they  fight  as  though 
they  were  possessed  of  a  supernatural  spirit. 

'  Spencer  and  Gillen,  "Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,"  p.  167. 


28      THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

Enough  has  been  said,  perhaps,  to  estabhsh 
the  fact  that  the  drama  plays  an  important 
part  in  the  hfe  of  all  savage  peoples,  and  that 
there  is  hardly  an  incident  of  any  importance 
which  has  not  its  dramatic  ceremony.  The 
desire  to  imitate  is  so  deeply  rooted  in  man  that 
a  considerable  portion  of  his  time  is  employed 
in  satisfying  this  *' instinct."  Even  at  the  very 
beginnings  of  human  development,  we  find  little 
dramas  already  well  established.  These  primi- 
tive men  had  something  to  say,  ideas  to  express, 
which,  without  the  drama,  would  have  been 
held  back  because  their  range  of  expression 
was  otherwise  so  meagre.  The  dramatic  desire 
asserted  itself,  and  thus  a  broad  field  of  expres- 
sion was  opened  up.  The  character  and  form 
of  these  unconscious  savage  dramas  depend 
entirely  upon  the  part  of  the  world  in  which 
they  are  performed.  No  matter  whence  the 
examples  are  taken,  whether  from  the  Eskimos 
of  the  north,  or  the  Bushmen  of  the  south, 
the  same  fundamental  elements  always  appear. 
The  ceremonies  are  usually  performed  for  ap- 
proximately the  same  reasons,  and  their  number 
varies  according  as  the  belief  in  spirits  is  strong 
or  weak,  and  as  the  struggle  for  existence  is 
hard  or  easy. 


EARLY  DEVELOPMENT  OF  DRAMA     29 

In  the  following  pages  there  will  be  brought 
out  more  clearly  by  means  of  examples  the 
predominant  part  which  the  drama  plays  in 
the  less  developed  societies.  It  will  then  be 
seen  that,  instead  of  being  merely  a  means  of 
enjoyment,  as  in  so  many  civilized  communities, 
it  has  also  more  vital  purposes  to  fulfill.  Nearly 
every  man  and  many  women  in  a  savage  tribe 
have  their  special  parts  to  take  in  the  cere- 
monies, and  to  them  the  performance  holds  an 
important  place  in  the  struggle  for  existence. 
By  collecting  illustrations  from  all  over  the  world 
and  on  all  stages  of  early  development,  the  sim- 
plest beginnings  of  a  history  of  the  drama  may 
be  supplied.  We  shall  then  be  able  to  show 
that  in  the  essentials  of  his  drama  the  savage 
is  not  so  far  behind  the  more  civilized  man  as 
has  been  thought.  The  same  elements  appear 
not  only  in  this  early  drama  but  also  in  the 
drama  of  the  Greeks  and  of  the  people  of  the 
Middle  Ages.  Then  may  we  say  that  one  more 
institution  of  society,  among  those  which  hold 
a  prominent  place  among  civilized  peoples  of 
to-day,  has  had  its  origin  and  early  develop- 
ment among  the  primitive  peoples  scattered 
throughout  the  world. 


CEREMONIES   CONNECTED   WITH 
THE  ANIMAL   FOOD 


CHAPTER  II 

CEREMONIES  CONNECTED   WITH 
THE  ANIMAL  FOOD 

AS  a  rule,  the  savage  man  is  living  on  a 
very  low  scale  of  subsistence  and  his 
stock  of  capital  is  exceedingly  small. 
Hence  it  takes  only  the  slightest  misfortune  to 
deprive  him  of  nearly  all  that  he  possesses. 
His  tools  and  weapons  are  so  crude  that  he  is 
forced  to  work  hard  in  order  that  he  may  sup- 
port himself.  His  food  consists  of  the  animals 
which  he  can  kill,  the  fish  obtained  from  the 
waters  near  him,  the  wild  vegetation  of  the 
forests,  and,  in  some  few  cases,  of  the  small 
products  of  his  own  agricultural  efforts.  How- 
ever, the  animal  food  is  for  him  the  more  im- 
portant, for  he  has  learned  to  kill  where  he  has 
not  learned  to  plant.  The  product  of  hunting 
IS  immediate  success,  while  in  agriculture,  months 
pass  before  he  can  reap  the  reward  of  his  labor. 
The  wild  roots,  berries,  and  fruits  which  he  can 
collect  afford  him  neither  the  same  nourishment 
nor  physical  satisfaction  which  he  can  get  from 


34      THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

meat.  Of  course,  there  are  exceptions  to  this, 
as  we  shall  see  later  on.  Another  reason  why 
he  was  slow  in  developing  agriculture  was  the 
fact  that  during  the  period  of  growth  of  the  crops 
he  had  to  obtain  food  and  this  quest  carried 
him  over  such  a  wide  area  of  land  that  it  was 
impossible  for  him  to  tend  and  defend  his  crops. 
It  was  to  the  women  who  were  obliged  to  stay 
within  a  smaller  area  that  we  owe,  in  all  prob- 
ability, the  development  of  agriculture.^  But 
hunting  is  at  times  precarious  and  unsatis- 
factory for  the  savage  man.  If  he  is  living  in 
a  country  such  as  Australia,  where  nearly  all 
of  his  subsistence  is  obtained  through  hunting, 
and  if,  for  some  reason,  the  animals  become 
scarce,  there  are  several  courses  open  to  him 
out  of  his  difficulty;  starvation,  migration, 
use  of  other  foods  than  those  to  which  he  has 
become  accustomed,  invention  or  discovery  of 
some  new  means  of  livelihood,  or  an  appeal  to 
the  gods  and  spirits  of  the  animals  and  of  the 
hunt,  whereby,  he  believes,  the  animals  may  be 
made  to  return. 

The  instinct  of  self-preservation  is  so  strong 
in  savage  man  that  he  will  not  starve  to  death 
if    he    can    help    it.     Migration    for    any    great 

1  A.  J.  Herbertson,  "  Man  and  His  Work,"  p.  59. 


ANIMAL  FOOD  CEREMONIES  35 

distance  from  his  present  home  is  not  normal, 
for  he  is  inert,  and  anything  requiring  change 
and  enterprise  means  pain.  To  stay  where  he  is 
and  try  to  get  sustenance  through  an  appeal  to 
the  gods  and  spirits  is  the  course  requiring  the 
least  exertion.  And  so  at  first  he  is  impelled 
to  take  recourse  to  some  religious  expedient, 
and  it  is  only  after  repeated  failure  that  he  is 
led  to  adopt  one  of  the  other  courses.  It  is 
with  a  study  of  the  ceremonies  connected  with 
the  animal  food  supply  that  we  shall  now  begin 
the  practical  illustrations  of  the  primitive  drama, 
because  these  ceremonies  are  fundamental  in  the 
life  of  nearly  all  savage  peoples. 

In  those  countries,  such  as  Australia  and 
America,  where  the  totem  forms  an  important 
part  in  the  religious  and  social  life,  the  number 
of  dramatic  ceremonies  is  far  greater  than  where 
the  totem  does  not  appear  at  all,  or  where  it 
is  of  minor  importance.  The  totems  may  be 
divided  into  two  main  classes:  (i)  the  animal 
and  plant,  and  (2)  the  natural  elements,  such 
as  the  rain  and  the  sun.  Every  man  belongs 
to  one  of  these  classes.  In  sections  of  the  coun- 
try where  animals  form  an  important  part  of 
the  food  supply,  animal  totems  are  predominant. 
Those   who   belong   to   them    are   expected    con- 


36     THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

tinually  to  perform  rites  in  order  that  the  food 
supply  may  not  fail.^  Where  agriculture  is 
chiefly  depended  upon  for  sustenance,  the  sun 
and  rain  totems  play  the  leading  roles.  In 
fact,  it  would  be  possible  to  determine  the  stage 
of  civilization  upon  which  any  primitive  people 
were  living  if  their  food  rites  were  known.  As 
has  already  been  indicated,  the  appeals  are  made 
to  the  gods  and  spirits  through  sympathetic 
magic;  hence  all  of  the  ceremonies  are  of  a 
mimetic  character.  Few  people,  regardless  of 
their  stage  of  development,  picture  in  their 
theatre  as  much  of  nature  as  do  the  savages. 
Nearly  everything  that  these  aborigines  portray 
deals  with  the  matters  of  every  day,  so  that  in 
acting  their  plays,  which  have  to  do  with  the 
animal  food  supply,  they  feel  that  they  are 
performing  as  real  and  important  a  function 
as  though  they  actually  went  out  and  obtained 
food. 

As  is  the  case  in  the  modern  drama,  in  the 
majority  of  the  ceremonies  there  is  one  actor 
who  takes  the  leading  role.  In  tribes  where 
the  totem   groups   either   do   not   appear   at   all, 

*  Spencer  and  Gillen, "  The  Northern  Tribes  of  Central  Australia," 
pp.  327,  149;  "Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,"  pp.  167,  169,211; 
Lang,  "Myth,  Ritual,  and  Religion,"  Vol.  I,  pp.  65-66,  70;  Webster, 
"Primitive  Secret  Societies,"  p.  161. 


ANIMAL   FOOD  CEREMONIES  37 

or  do  not  form  an  important  element,  this  part 
is  taken  by  the  medicine  man,  who  is  supposed 
to  be  in  constant  communication  with  the  gods 
and  spirits.  Among  the  Austrahans,  where  the 
totem  idea  is  dominant,  the  head  man  of  each 
group  assumes  the  leading  character;  for  it  is 
he  who,  through  long  experience  is  able  to  fore- 
see just  what  the  spirits  of  the  animals  demand 
in  order  that  they  may  be  so  propitiated  or 
coerced  that  they  will  appear.  The  minor  roles 
are  taken  by  the  other  members  of  the  tribe,  or 
totem  group,  as  the  case  may  be. 

In  all  of  these  ceremonies  dealing  with  the 
animal  food  supply  the  women  of  the  group 
play  either  a  very  minor  part  or  none  at  all. 
This  may  be  due  to  the  religious  idea  that  women 
are  unclean  and  hence  are  not  allowed  to  play 
an  important  part  in  the  dealings  of  man  with 
the  spirit  world.  However  true  this  may  be, 
in  these  particular  cases  of  the  animal  cere- 
monies there  seems  to  be  another  and  more 
logical  reason.  These  dramatic  religious  cere- 
monies are  the  direct  outgrowth  of  the  tales  of 
the  day's  hunt  told  around  the  camp-fire  after 
an  expedition.  As  the  men  and  not  the  women 
were  the  ones  who  did  the  hunting,  they  of 
necessity  took  the  various   roles   when   the   reli- 


38      THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

gious  element  entered  in  and  these  hunt  stones 
became  ceremonials. 

In  all  of  these  plays  the  actors  have  been 
drilled  in  their  parts  from  boyhood,  so  that  they 
are  able  to  reproduce  the  ceremony  on  any 
occasion  without  a  change.  It  must  not  be 
forgotten  that  the  rite  has  to  be  performed 
correctly,  under  penalty  of  ineffectiveness  or 
worse.  When  it  is  remembered  that  the  play 
has  not  been  written  down,  and  that  the  per- 
formers are  obliged  to  keep  in  mind  not  only  the 
exact  action,  but  also  the  lines,  songs,  and  music 
for  a  performance  extending  at  times  over  several 
days,  it  will  be  seen  that,  in  some  respects,  the 
mental  capacity  of  the  savage  is  not  as  limited 
as  many  persons  are  led  to  suppose.^ 

The  holding  of  these  ceremonies  depends  upon 
the  season  of  the  year.  Many  are  associated 
with  the  breeding  of  animals,  or  the  flowering 
of  the  plants,  so  that  they  must  be  performed 
within  a  well-defined  period.  In  Central  Austra- 
lia there  is  a  dry  season,  often  of  great  length, 
and  a  wet  one  of  shorter  duration  and  of 
irregular  occurrence.     The  latter  is  marked  by  an 

'  Among  the  Maoris  if  a  spell  is  recited  in  an  incorrect  manner 
(even  to  the  dropping  of  a  single  wordj  it  is  believed  to  bring  death 
upon  the  user.     E.  Tregear,  "The  Maori  Race,"  p.  451. 


ANIMAL  FOOD  CEREMONIES  39 

increase  of  animal  and  plant  life  which  turns 
a  veritable  desert  into  a  fruitful  garden.  It  is 
just  at  the  beginning  of  the  wet  season  that  the 
totem  ceremonies  are  held,  and  for  this  reason 
they  are  always  successful  in  bringing  an  abun- 
dant supply  of  food.  At  times  of  great  drought, 
those  who  belong  to  the  rain  or  water  totem  will 
hold  a  ceremony  to  bring  the  necessary  moisture. 
If  rain  soon  follows,  they  claim  to  have  been 
successful,  but  if  they  fail,  some  distant  group 
of  men  have    wrought  a  counter  influence.^ 

We  have  here  a  very  good  example  of  how  a 
clever  medicine  man  is  able  to  hold  his  power 
over  his  more  ignorant  and  superstitious  fellow- 
tribesmen.  He  learns  by  a  careful  study  of 
weather  conditions  when  a  storm  is  due  and 
then  holds  a  ceremony  to  bring  the  rain.  When 
the  rain  comes  he  claims  the  honor  of  having 
brought  it.  If  animals  are  needed  for  food, 
he  discovers  through  scouts  or  other  agencies 
where  they  are  likely  to  be  found  and  then  has 
a  ceremony  performed,  telling  the  people  that 
by  intercession  with  the  gods  through  the  mystic 
sympathetic  magic  rites  the  deities  have  been 
persuaded  to  grant  his  requests.     The  people  be- 

'  Spencer  and  Gilien,  "Native  Tribes  of  Ctntral  Australia,"  pp. 
169-170. 


40      THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

lieve  him  and  honor  him  for  being  such  a  holy 
man  and  are  wiUing  to  grant  him  anything  which 
he  asks  in  return  for  his  favors.  Should  he, 
however,  fail  repeatedly,  it  is  very  likely  that 
he  will  be  deposed  from  office  as  having  lost 
his  close  connection  with  the  spirit  world. 

Not  all  savage  peoples  have  dramatic  cere- 
monies connected  with  the  animal  food  supply. 
The  Eskimos  of  the  far  north,  for  example, 
have  but  few  ceremonies  and  this  is  probably 
due  to  their  limited  worship  of  the  spirit  of 
the  animals,  and  to  the  scarcity  of  totem  groups. 
Their  life  is  so  hard  that  they  have  little  leisure 
time,  and  their  houses  are  so  small  that  they 
have  no  extra  space  to  give  plays.  The  amuse- 
ment of  these  people  takes  the  form  of  story 
telling,  of  which  there  will  be  more  to  say  later. 

But  this  does  not  mean  that  they  are  lacking 
in  the  power  to  imitate  which  was  shown  to  be 
the  basis  of  the  drama.  Imitation  is  called  for 
by  the  very  conditions  of  the  case  in  hunting. 
The  Eskimos  dress  in  the  skins  of  animals  and 
mimic  their  actions,  their  skill  in  so  doing  really 
constituting  a  superiority  in  the  chase.  Thus 
the  ability  to  impersonate  becomes  a  vital  ele- 
ment in  self-maintenance  and  impinges  upon  the 
most  primordial  class  of  the  mores.     By    means 


ANIMAL  FOOD  CEREMONIES  41 

of  this  action  a  man  can  get  very  near  to  a 
seal  by  flopping  along  on  the  ice  as  he  has  seen 
the  animals  do.^  If  he  wishes  to  kill  a  polar 
bear  he  imitates  the  seal  upon  which  the  bear 
feeds  and  thereby  entices  it  within  gunshot.^ 
Among  the  Plains-Cree  if  individual  hunters 
wished  to  obtain  the  buffalo  they  adopted  the 
following  means:  one  Indian  disguising  himself 
as  a  buffalo  by  means  of  a  big  robe  would  get 
on  all  fours  and,  imitating  a  calf,  begin  to 
bleat  pitiably.  The  other  Indians,  wrapped  in  a 
white  blanket  to  look  like  a  wolf,  pretended  to 
attack  him.  The  buffalo  would  come  up  to  the 
succor  of  the  supposed  calf,  and  the  hunters 
could  then  shoot  those  that  they  wanted.^  This 
dramatic  means  of  getting  food  is  very  wide- 
spread over  the  world  and  occurs  not  only  in 
America,  but  also  in  Australia  ^  and  Africa.^ 

The  type  of  ceremonies  which  are  here  to  be 
described  falls  under  two  heads:  first,  where 
only  the  animals  come  on  the  stage,  and  second, 

'  George  Borup,  Lecture. 

2  H.  H.  Bancroft,  "Native  Races  of  the  Pacific  States,"  Vol.  I, 

P-  57- 

*  A.  Skinner,  "Political  OrganizarioHi  Cults  and  Ceremonies  of 
the  Plains-Ojibvvay  and  Plains-Cree  Indians,"  Report  Am.  Mus.  of 
Nat.  Hist.,  Vol.  XL  Part  VI,  1914,  p.  528. 

*  Spencer  and  Gillen,  "  Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,"  p.  20. 
'  Ratzel,  "Histoiy  of  Mankind,"  Vol.  II,  p.  274. 


42      THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

where  both  man  and  the  animals  appear.  Both 
of  these  have  the  sympathetic  magic  basis  in 
that  they  act  out  for  the  gods  to  see  and  imitate 
those  things  which  the  savage  wishes  to  happen; 
but  the  second  is  a  higlier  dramatic  type  than 
the  first,  for  we  perceive  man  with  his  plans  for 
overcoming  his  prey  and  the  accomphshing 
of   his    desire. 

In  the  first  or  lower  type  we  observe  the 
animals  living  in  their  haunts  with  no  apparent 
purpose  to  their  actions.  It  is  hardly  possible 
to  determine  wliich  appeared  chronologically 
first  in  the  history  of  dramatic  art,  for  both 
of  them  occur  in  neighboring  tribes  who  seem 
to  be  at  about  the  same  stage  of  develop- 
ment. For  our  purpose  here  it  is  only  neces- 
sary to  note  that  the  second  is  merely  the 
first  with  the  addition  of  man.  Of  course,  it 
is  possible  to  develop  a  plot  with  only  the  ani- 
mals, and  we  see  one  example  of  this  coming 
from  New  Britain,  but  as  a  rule  among  savage 
peoples,  there  is  not  even  the  smallest  vestige 
of  purposeful  action  until  the  human  element 
appears.  Even  then  it  is  a  long  time  before  the 
plays  have  more  than  a  single  simple  incident. 

As  illustrating  the  first  head  we  find  that  the 
Tasmanians    had    many    dances    which    imitated 


ANIMAL   FOOD  CEREMONIES  43 

the  movements  of  animals.  In  the  Kangaroo 
dance  the  men  jumped  or  hopped  around  as  they 
had  seen  the  animal  do.  '*In  the  Emu  Dance 
the  men  went  slowly  around  the  fire,  throwing 
their  arms  about  to  imitate  the  motions  of  the 
head  of  the  animals  while  feeding.  One  hand 
behind  would  alternate  with  the  other  in  front, 
coming  to  the  ground  and  then  rising  above  the 
head."  ^  The  people  of  the  Prince  of  Wales 
Island  hold  what  is  known  as  the  Crab  Dance, 
in  which  a  man  assumes  a  crouching  attitude 
with  the  upper  arms  horizontal  and  the  fore- 
arms vertical.-  In  New  Britain  the  Hornbill 
Dance  is  strictly  of  totemic  origin.  A  man 
comes  forth  dressed  as  the  female  bird,  whose 
walk  and  other  movements  he  mimics  in  every 
detail.  After  looking  around  for  some  time  for 
her  mate  she  at  last  finds  him  and  they  dance 
together.' 

The  love  dance  forms  quite  an  important  part 
in  savage  life  and  it  appears  among  many 
animals.  In  this  dance  among  the  people  of 
New  Britain  a  myth  of  the  totemic  past  is  acted 
out    and    the    men    taking   part    go    through    the 

1  Bonwick,  "  Daily  Life  of  the  T.ismanians,"  p.  36. 

*  A.  C.  Haddon,  "Head  Hunters,"  pp.  188-9. 

'  R.  I'ullcn-Biirry,  "In  a  German  Colony,"  pp.  204  ff. 


44      THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

actions  as  though  they  were  real  birds.  It  is 
very  probable  that  the  idea  which  they  have  in 
mind  is  that  by  acting  out  the  love  dance  the 
birds  may  do  likewise  and  thus  the  number  of 
young  will  be  increased.  In  all  of  these  we  go 
back  to  the  religious  basis  of  sympathetic  magic. 

Each  group,  in  a  primitive  society  which  has 
an  animal  for  its  totem,  goes  through  dramatic 
rites  at  various  times  of  the  year,  similar  to  those 
described  above.  The  sympathetic  magic  idea  is 
dominant,  although  the  exact  form  which  the 
ceremon}^  takes  varies  with  the  totem.  It  is 
perfectly  clear  that  there  is  in  each  of  these 
cases  the  simplest  dramatic  action.  They  are 
merely  incidents  of  everyday  life  with  no 
definite  plot.  The  story  of  a  hunt  or  the  devel- 
opment of  an  insect  from  its  earliest  stages 
through  the  process  of  metamorphosis  till  it 
finally  emerges  full  grown,  are  faithfully  repro- 
duced by  the  actors.  They  are  the  thoughts  of 
a  simple  mind  told  in  a  simple  way.  It  is  not 
until  one  reaches  a  fairly  high  stage  of  savagery 
that  there  begins  to  appear  a  very  much 
more  elaborate   production. 

In  a  ceremony  connected  with  the  Witchetty 
Grub  Totem  of  Australia,  the  principal  performer 
takes  the  part  of  the  insect.     While  sitting  on 


ANIMAL   FOOD  CEREMONIES  45 

the  ground  he  gives  an  imitation  of  flying  by 
waving  his  arms  and  bending  his  body  forward 
and  backward.  He  is  supposed  to  be  hovering 
over  a  bush  as  does  the  insect  before  it  lays  its 
eggs.  Later  the  performer  wriggles,  imitating 
the  fluttering  of  the  insect  when  it  first  leaves 
its  chrysalis  case  in  the  ground  and  attempts  to 
fly.i 

A  large  part  of  the  Witchetty  Grub  Totem 
ceremony  is  not  performed  in  the  camp  but  out 
on  the  hills,  away  from  the  gaze  of  the  uniniti- 
ated, for  it  is  thought  that  if  the  women  and 
children  should  gaze  on  certain  secret  portions  of 
the  ceremony  the  eflScacy  of  the  entire  perform- 
ance would  be  lost.  Late  in  the  afternoon  the 
few  men  who  are  to  take  part  steal  away  from 
the  camp  so  that  no  one  will  know  where  they 
have  gone,  and  march  in  single  file  up  into  the 
mountains,  where  they  spend  the  night.  Early 
the  next  morning  they  start  out  again,  each  man 
carrying  in  his  hand  a  twig,  the  leader,  however, 
having  a  small  wooden  trough.  The  path  which 
they  take  is  the  historic  one  followed  by  the  great 
leader  of  the  Witchetty  Grubs  in  the  remote  past. 
Finally  they  reach  a  small  cave  in  which  is  a 
large    block    of   quartzite    surrounded    by    small 

'  SpcncerandGillen, "Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,"  p.  i8o. 


46      THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

round  stones.  The  large  stone  represents  the 
adult  animal.  The  leader  begins  to  sing  and  to 
tap  it  with  his  trough,  while  the  other  men  tap 
it  with  their  twigs  and  join  in  the  songs,  the 
burden  of  which  is  an  invitation  to  the  animal 
to  lay  eggs.  After  this  ceremony  has  been  con- 
tinued for  a  short  time,  attention  is  turned  to 
the  small  stones,  which  represent  the  eggs.  Soon, 
however,  the  men  move  on  to  another  big  rock, 
supposed  to  have  been  closely  connected  with 
their  mythical  ancestor.  This  they  continue 
to  tap  while  singing  a  song  which  consists  of 
an  invitation  to  the  animals  to  come  from  all 
directions  and  lay  eggs.  Several  other  similar 
ceremonies  are  performed  before  steps  are  re- 
traced to  the  home  camp,  where  the  last  act 
is  to  be  carried  out. 

While  these  men  have  been  away,  an  old  man 
of  the  totem,  left  in  the  camp,  has  built  a  long 
narrow  house,  which  is  intended  to  represent  the 
chrysalis  case,  from  which  the  fully  developed 
insect  emerges.  As  the  camp  comes  into  view, 
the  actors  stop  and  decorate  themselves,  paint- 
ing on  their  body  with  red  ochre  and  pipe  clay 
the  design  of  the  totem.  Coming  along  slowly 
in  single  file,  they  at  length  reach  the  chrysalis, 
which  they  enter.     When   all  are  inside  they  be- 


ANIMAL   FOOD  CEREMONIES  47 

gin  to  sing  of  the  witchetty  insect  in  its  various 
stages.  The  music  continues  for  a  while  and 
then,  one  by  one,  they  shuffle  out  in  a  squat- 
ting posture,  in  imitation  of  the  insect  emerging 
from  the  chrysahs.  The  rest  of  the  evening  is 
taken  up  with  singing  songs  of  the  Witchetty 
Grub.i 

In  Zambezia  a  belief  is  held  that  the  spirits 
of  the  dead  are  able  to  return  and  watch  over 
their  surviving  relations  in  animal  form.  It 
frequently  happens  that  one  family  will  be 
unwilling  to  kill  beasts  of  one  kind  for  fear  of 
hurting  the  spirits  in  them,  and  another  group 
will  hesitate  before  killing  those  of  another 
species.  This  belief  is  particularly  strong  among 
the  Wa-Tonga  of  the  Barne,  who  still  perform 
animal  dances  in  which  they  imitate  the  voices 
and  movements  of  those  forms  in  which  they 
think  the  spirits  of  their  dead  relatives  may  be 
sheltered.^ 

Turning  now  to  the  ceremonies  under  the 
second  head,  where  both  man  and  animals  appear, 
we  see  that  among  the  Kosa  Kaffirs,  before  a 
hunting   expedition   goes    forth,    a    dramatic    rite 

'  Spenctr  and    Ciillen,   "Native  Tribes   of   Central    Australia," 
pp.  170  fF.;   Haddon,  "  Magic  and  Fetishism,"  p.  42. 
'  R.  C.  F.  Mangham,  "Zambezia,"  p.  359. 


48      THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

is  performed  which  they  consider  absolutely 
essential  for  the  success  of  the  undertaking. 
One  of  the  men  puts  a  handful  of  grass  into  his 
mouth  and  then  crawls  around  on  all  fours  to 
represent  the  animal.  The  rest  of  the  party 
chase  him  as  though  they  would  drive  their 
spears  through  him,  giving  their  hunting  cry 
all  the  time.  Finally  the  animal  actor  falls 
upon  the  ground  as  if  dead.  If  this  man  after- 
ward kills  any  game,  he  can  keep  the  claw,  which 
he  hangs  as  a  trophy  on  his  arm,  but  the  animal 
must  be  shared  with  the  rest.^ 

"Among  the  Mandan  Indians,  when  the 
hunters  failed  to  find  the  buffaloes  on  which 
the  tribe  depended  for  food,  every  man  brought 
out  of  his  lodge  the  mask  of  a  buflfalo's  head  and 
horns,  with  the  tail  hanging  down  behind,  which 
he  kept  for  such  an  emergency,  and  they  all 
set  to  'dance  buffalo.'  Ten  or  fifteen  masked 
dancers  at  a  time  formed  the  ring,  drumming 
and  rattling,  chanting  and  yelling;  when  one 
was  tired  out  he  went  through  the  pantomime 
of  being  shot  with  bow  and  arrow,  skinned,  and 
cut  up;  while  another,  who  stood  ready  with  his 
buffalo  head  on,  took  his  place  in  the  dance. 
So    it   would    go    on,    without    stopping    day   or 

'  J.  Lubbock,  "Origin  of  Civilization,"  p.  185. 


ANIMAL   FOOD  CEREMONIES  49 

night,  sometimes  for  two  or  three  weeks,  till 
at  last  these  persevering  efforts  to  bring  the 
buffalo  succeeded,  and  a  herd  came  in  sight  on 
the  prairie."  ^ 

One  of  the  totem  plays  in  Australia  repre- 
sents the  chopping  of  an  opossum  out  of  a 
hollow  log.  The  hunter,  who  is  the  chief  singer 
and  actor  and  who  is  assisted  by  other  men, 
enters  singing  his  hunting  song,  and,  while  look- 
ing around  for  the  animal,  finally  discovers  it 
in  the  log.  After  several  ineffectual  attempts 
to  dislodge  it  with  a  pole,  they  have  recourse  to 
a  fire,  by  which  they  hope  to  smoke  it  out.  The 
result  is  that  the  animal  is  forced  to  escape  and, 
while  trying  to  reach  the  brush,  is  caught  and 
killed.  Not  only  the  words  of  the  song,  but 
also  the  pantomimic  dancing  which  accompanies 
the  whole  performance  add  greatly  to  the  vivid- 
ness of  the  scene. ^ 

In  some  parts  of  Australia  this  ceremony  of 
the  opossum  totem  is  performed  in  a  little  dif- 
ferent manner  from  that  described  above.  An 
old  man,  who  is  characterized  by  his  leaning  on 

'  Tylor,"  Anthropology,"  pp.  296-7;  Cushin?,  "Zuiii  Folk  Tales," 
p.  xiv.  Introduction;  Catlin,  "Annual  Report  of  the  Smithsonian 
Institute,"  1885,  Part  II,  pp.  309  ff.;  H.  Webster,  "Primitive  Secret 
Societies,"  p.  384  note. 

'  Howitt,  "Native  Tribes  of  Southeast  Australia,"  pp.  423-4. 


50      THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

a  staff,  goes  out  on  a  hunt  for  food.  Finding 
an  animal  in  a  hollow  log,  he  starts  to  chop  it 
out,  but  his  labors  are  interrupted  by  men  taking 
the  part  of  opossums.  These  have  been  hiding 
in  the  near-by  brush.  One  quietly  crawls  out 
and  gives  the  bare  leg  of  the  old  man  a  scratch. 
He  appears  to  be  very  much  frightened  to  judge 
by  the  yell  he  gives  and  the  caper  he  cuts  as 
he  turns  to  hit  his  annoyer  with  his  stick.  The 
animal  dodges  him  and,  running  on  all  fours, 
lies  down  at  the  edge  of  the  stage.  The  work 
has  hardly  started  again  on  the  log  when  a 
second  opossum  comes  out  and  bites  the  leg. 
The  man  yells  as  he  strikes  the  animal  with  his 
stick.  So  the  performance  goes  on  until  all  of 
the  opossum-men  are  lying  down  by  the  edge 
of  the  stage.  The  old  man  then  rushes  over 
to  them,  shouts  the  word  for  "opossum,"  and 
leads  the  company  in  a  dance  around  the  fire,^ 
The  Indians  of  New  Spain  often  hold  a  dance 
which  is  a  representation  of  the  hunting  of  wild 
beasts.  When  they  begin  the  dance,  they  talk 
to  each  other  as  though  they  were  playing  in 
a  comedy,  concerning  the  animals  which  they 
are  about  to  hunt.  The  men  are  disguised  as 
beasts  by  wearing  the  skins  of  mountain  lions, 
'  Howitt,  "Native  Tribes  of  Southeast  Australia,"  p.  545. 


ANIMAL   FOOD  CEREMONIES  51 

jaguars,  or  wolves;  others  wear  head  coverings 
made  from  the  head  of  an  animal  or  from  that 
o[  the  eagle  or  other  bird  of  prey.  They  carry  in 
their  iiands  pointed  sticks,  swords  and  hatchets, 
with  which  they  threaten  to  kill  the  beasts  which 
they  pursue.  At  times  it  is  a  man  who  flees, 
as  if  he  were  being  attacked  by  wild  animals 
in  the  desert.  The  man  who  takes  this  role 
must  be  very  agile  and  fleet  of  foot,  hitting 
here  and  there  as  he  runs  away  from  the  beasts 
that  pursue  him.  At  last  the  animals  overtake 
him  and  pretend  to  devour  him.^ 

The  stage  setting  for  some  of  these  corro- 
horees,  or  dramatic  representations,  is  often  very 
striking.  A  large  smooth  piece  of  ground  is 
chosen  for  the  stage;  poles  are  set  up  with  huge 
sheets  of  bark,  usually  painted  with  totemic 
designs,  fastened  between  them.  At  one  side 
is  a  large  imitation  of  an  alligator  or  some  other 
animal,  made  of  logs  plastered  over  with  mud 
and  painted  with  stripes  of  various  colors.  A 
piece  of  wood  cut  open  and  stuck  in  at  one  end 
serves  for  a  gaping  mouth.  At  the  back  and 
at  each  side  of  the  stage  are  fires  which  serve 
as  footlights.  In  a  large  semicircle  in  front, 
the  women,  who  act  as  the  orchestra,  are  seated. 

'  Magnin,  "  Les  Origines  du  Theatre  Moderne,"  pp.  44-5. 


2      THE   DRAxMA  OF   SAVAGE   PEOPLE 


:>- 


The  music  is  made  by  beating  time  on  a  rolled- 
up  opossum  rug  and  by  striking  two  boomerangs 
together.  The  time  is  faultless.  Although  the 
tunes  are  monotonous,  they  are  rhythmical  and 
musical,  and  seem  curiously  well  suited  to  the 
stage  and  the  players.  "These  latter  have  a 
very  weird  look  as  they  steal  out  of  the  thick 
scrub,  out  of  the  darkness,  quickly  one  after 
another,  dancing  around  the  stage  in  time  to  the 
music,  their  grotesquely  painted  figures  and 
feather-decorated  heads  lit  up  by  the  flickering 
lights  of  the  fires.  As  the  dancing  gets  faster, 
the  singing  gets  louder,  every  muscle  of  the 
dancers  seems  strained,  and  the  wonder  is  that 
the  voices  do  not  crack.  Just  as  you  think  they 
must,  the  dancing  slows  again,  the  voices  die 
away,  to  swell  out  once  more  with  renewed  vigor 
when  the  fires  are  built  up  again  and  again;  the 
same  dance  is  gone  through  time  after  time  — 
one  night  one  dance,  or  for  that  matter,  many 
nights  one  dance."  ^ 

In  the  plays  of  savage  man  one  point  to  be 
noticed  is,  that  in  the  details  they  are  true  to 
life.  If  one  had  merely  an  accurate  description 
of  the   savage    drama    it   would    be    possible    to 

'  K.  L.  Parker,  "The  Euahlayi  Tribe,"  pp.  122-3;  Spencer  and 
Gillen,  "Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,"  p.  178. 


ANIMAL  FOOD  CEREMONIES  53 

draw  a  picture  of  their  life,  although  no  other 
details  but  those  appearing  in  the  drama  might 
be  at  hand.  The  kinds  of  weapons  which  they 
use,  their  methods  of  fighting  and  hunting,  how 
they  instruct  their  young,  and  even  many  of  their 
religious  beliefs  are  brought  out  in  their  dramatic 
representations.  It  has  been  possible  to  con- 
struct a  history  of  Homeric  society  from  the 
Iliad  and  the  Odyssey,  taking  those  things  which 
really  formed  the  setting  of  the  poems. ^  So, 
likewise,  if  it  were  necessary,  one  could  obtain 
a  history  of  the  development  of  savage  peoples 
through  the  plays  which  hold  so  important  a 
place  in  their  lives. 

It  is  often  difficult  to  keep  in  mind  the  fact 
that  in  many  of  these  seemingly  comic  plays 
the  religious  idea  is  strong,  and  that  in  the 
performance  the  men  who  take  part  are,  for 
the  time  being,  at  least,  almost  priests  of  the 
animals  which  they  are  portraying.  If  these 
sympathetic  magic  rites  are  acceptable  to  the 
spirits,  the  people  will  be  blessed  with  a  more 
abundant  food  supply  and  thus  will  life  be  made 
a  little  easier  in  a  difficult  environment. 

The  use  of  masks  in  the  dances  and  drama  of 

*  See  Keller,  "Homeric  Society";  Seymour,  "  Life  in  the  Homeric 
Age." 


54      THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

savage  peoples  is  very  widespread.  For  example, 
in  the  dances  of  the  natives  of  Torres  Straits, 
winch  are  held  for  the  purpose  of  assuring  suc- 
cess on  a  hunting  or  fishing  trip,  the  most  extraor- 
dinary masks  of  tortoise  shell  are  worn.  The 
form  of  the  mask  is  supposed  to  have  much  to  do 
with  the  success  of  an  undertaking,  and  so  before 
a  hunting  trip  they  will  wear  only  the  mask  of  an 
animal  and  before  a  fishing  trip  that  of  a  fish.^ 

Among  the  Eskimos  of  Behring  Strait  there 
is  held  a  more  or  less  dramatic  feast,  known  as 
the  "Inviting  In"  feast.  During  the  dance 
which  follows,  masks  are  worn,-  which  represent 
either  the  totem  animal  of  the  maker  or  some 
mythical  fancy.  The  object  of  these  faces  is 
to  propitiate  and  do  honor  to  the  animal  or 
other  being  represented  by  them,  with  the  hope 
that  there  will  be  a  plentiful  supply  of  game 
during  the  coming  year,  and  that  evil  influences 
may  be  warded  off.  The  spirits  of  the  animals 
are  invited  to  be  present  in  order  that  they  may 
enjoy  the  feast  and  the  dances, 

*  C.  H.  Nead,  "Some  Spinning  Tops  from  Torres  Straits,"  17 
J.  A.  I.,  p.  87,  quoted  by  Levy-Hriihl  in  "  Les  Fonctions  Mentales 
dans  les  Societes  Inferieures,"  p.  275;   Maddon,  "Head  Hunters." 

*  Masks  were  not  the  original  property  of  the  Eskimos  but  have 
been  borrowed  from  the  Indians  of  the  Northwest  Coast.  E.  Grosse, 
"The  Beginnings  of  Art,"  p.  189. 


ANIMAL  FOOD  CEREMONIES  55 

The  historical  myth  which  gave  rise  to 
this  ceremony  is  as  follows.  In  early  times 
it  was  thought  that  all  animate  beings  had 
a  dual  existence,  so  that  at  will,  they  could 
become  either  man  or  animal.  If  an  animal 
wished  to  assume  its  human  form,  it  raised 
its  arm,  leg,  or  wing,  and  pushed  up  the 
muzzle  or  beak,  as  if  it  were  a  mask.  The 
creature  then  became  manlike  in  form  and  fea- 
tures. **This  idea  is  still  held,  and  it  is  believed 
that  many  animals  now  possess  this  power.  The 
manlike  form  thus  appearing  is  called  the  inna 
and  is  supposed  to  represent  the  thinking  part 
of  the  creature,  and  at  death  becomes  its 
shade. "^ 

At  this  ceremony  of  the  "Inviting  In"  feast 
some  of  the  masks  worn  by  the  dancers  represent 
the  totem  animals,  and  the  wearers  are  believed 
to  become  the  creature  represented,  or  at  least 
to  be  endowed  with  its  spiritual  essence.  In 
order  to  carry  out  the  idea  of  the  myth,  the 
masks  are  made  with  double  faces.  "This  is 
done  by  havmg  the  muzzle  of  the  animal  fitted 
over  and  concealing  the  face  of  the  inna  below, 

*  E.  W.  Hawkes,  "The  'Inviting  In'  P'east  of  the  Alaskan  Eski- 
mos," Canadian  Geological  Survey,  Memoir  45,  No.  3,  Anthropo- 
logical Series.  Bureau  of  Ethnology  Report,  1896-7,  Vol.  I,  pp. 
394  ff.;   E.  W.  Nelson,  "Eskimo  of  the  Behring  Strait." 


56      THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

the  outer  mask  being  held  in  place  by  pegs  so 
arranged  that  it  can  be  removed  quickly  at  a 
certain  time  in  the  ceremony,  thus  symbolizing 
the  transformation.  Another  style  of  mask  has 
the  under  face  concealed  by  a  small  hinged  door 
on  each  side,  which  opens  at  a  proper  time  in 
the  ceremony,  indicating  the  metamorphosis.^ 
When  the  mask  represents  a  totemic  animal, 
the  wearer  needs  no  double  face,  since  he  repre- 
sents in  person  the  shade  of  the  totemic  animal. 
When  worn  in  any  ceremonial,  either  as  a  totem 
mask  or  as  representing  the  shade,  the  wearer 
is  believed  to  become  mysteriously  and  uncon- 
sciously imbued  with  the  spirit  of  the  being 
which  his  mask  represents.  Still  other  masks 
have  wooden  models  of  thumbless  hands  attached 
to  their  sides,  the  palms  of  the  hands  being 
pierced  with  large  circular  holes;  these  are  usually 
found  on  masks  representing  birds,  beasts,  and 
spirits,  having  some  connection  with  making 
game  more  or  less  plentiful."  ^  Probably  the 
holes  indicate  that  the  being  will  not  hold  the 
game  but  will  let  it  pass  through  to  the  earth. 
In  the  Topeng  ^  performance    of  Java,  masks 

^  Lang,  "  Myth,  Ritual  and  Religion,"  Vol.  I,  p.  I49. 
^  Report  of  the  Bureau  of  Ethnology,  1896-7,  Vol.  I,  pp.  395  fF.; 
E.  W.  Nelson,  "  Eskimo  of  the  Behring  Strait." 
*  Topirng  means  masquerade. 


ANIMAL    FOOD    CEREMONIES  57 

are  worn  by  the  players  at  all  times  except  when 
they  appear  before  a  prince  and  then  they  dis- 
card them.^  As  we  will  show  later  on,  the  earli- 
est form  which  we  find  in  Java  of  the  drama  is 
that  of  the  puppets.  The  same  idea  is  carried 
out  when  human  beings  take  the  parts,  for  in- 
stead of  speaking  themselves  a  man  reads  the 
lines  and  the  actors  then  come  out  and  perform; 
and  by  the  use  of  masks  they  are  able  to  com- 
plete the  puppet  illusion. 

In  the  "No"  plays  of  Japan  we  find  a  still 
further  reason  for  the  use  of  masks.  "Only 
men  can  act,  and  for  the  women's  parts  they 
wear  the  conventional  masks  with  the  white 
narrow  face  and  the  eyebrows  painted  high  up 
on  the  middle  of  the  forehead,  which  is  the 
classical  standard  of  female  beauty.  Masks  are 
also  worn  by  those  representing  demons  or 
ghosts.  They  are  made  of  carved  wood  with  a 
slit  for  the  mouth  and  two  holes  for  the  eyes."  ^ 

It  would  be  interesting  at  this  point  to  pause 
and  take  up  the  widespread  use  of  masks  the 
world  over,  but  space  will  only  permit  of  the 
briefest  mention.  They  are  to  be  found  among 
practically    all    peoples    in    the    lower    stages    of 

»  G.  A.  Wilken,  "Volkenkunde,"  Ch.V. 

*  M.  C.  Stopes,  "Plays  of  Old  Japan  —  The  'No',"  p.  14. 


S8      THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

civilization  and  even  in  so  advanced  a  civiliza- 
tion as  that  of  Greece  at  the  time  of  the  great 
dramatists  they  were  used  by  all  actors.^  The 
purpose,  especially  among  the  Greeks,  was  that 
the  so-called  stock  characters  should  not  change, 
and  that  the  voice  of  the  actor  should  carry 
better.  A  god  was  supposed  to  have  one  definite 
form  and  the  goddess  another.  Grief  was  ex- 
pressed by  one  mask  and  joy  by  another.  Not 
only  each  person,  but  also  each  emotion  was 
expressed  by  the  set  face  of  wood  and  linen 
rather  than  by  the  actual  countenances  of  the 
actors.^     Even    to-day    in    our    theatres,    while 

*  Masks  were  sometimes  used  in  the  drama  of  the  Middle  Ages 
where  a  man  took  a  woman's  part. 

*  "Masks  were  generally  made  of  linen.  Cork  and  wood  were 
occasionally  used.  The  mask  covered  the  whole  of  the  head,  both  in 
front  and  behind.  Caps  were  often  worn  underneath,  to  serve  as  a 
protection.  The  white  of  the  eye  was  painted  on  the  mask,  but  the 
place  for  the  pupil  was  left  hollow,  to  enable  the  actor  to  see.  The 
expression  of  the  tragic  mask  was  the  onkos,  a  cone-shaped  prolonga- 
tion of  the  upper  part  of  the  mask  above  the  forehead,  intended  to 
give  size  and  impressiveness  to  the  face,  and  used  where  dignity  was 
to  be  imparted.  It  varied  in  size  according  to  the  character  of  the 
personage.  The  onkos  of  the  tyrant  svas  especially  large;  that  of  the 
women  was  less  than  that  of  the  men.  A  character  svas  not  neces- 
sarily represented  by  the  same  mask  throughout  the  piece.  The 
effects  of  misfortune  or  of  accident  had  often  to  be  depicted  by  a  fresh 
mask.  For  instance,  in  the  Helen  of  Euripides,  Helen  returns  upon 
the  stage  with  her  hair  shorn  off,  and  her  cheeks  pale  with  weeping. 
CEdipus,  at  the  end  of  the  Qidipus  Tyrannus  of  Sophocles,  is  seen  with 
blinded  eyes  and  blood-stained  face.  In  such  case  a  change  of  mask 
must  have  been  necessary.     There  are  a  few  occasions  in  the  extant 


ANIMAL    FOOD    CEREMONIES  59 

they  do  not  use  masks,  yet  there  are  typical 
makeups  which   serve  the  same  purpose.^ 

The  ideas  which  are  current  in  the  mind  of 
the  savage  in  regard  to  masks  are  somewhat 
different  from  those  of  the  Greeks.  We  have 
noticed  that  the  Eskimo  thinks  that  the  per- 
sonality of  the  individual  whom  the  mask  repre- 
sents passes  into  the  wearer,  so  that  his  actions 

tragedies  where  a  change  of  facial  expression  seems  to  be  demanded 
by  the  circumstances,  but  was  rendered  impossible  by  the  mask. 
Thus,  in  the  Elektra  of  Sophooles,  the  heroine  is  unable  to  show  her 
joy  at  her  brother's  return,  and  the  poet  has  to  get  over  this  as  best 
he  can.  He  makes  Orestes  bid  her  show  no  signs  of  joy  for  fear  of 
arousing  suspicion,  while  she  declares  there  is  no  risk  of  this,  for 
hatred  of  her  mother  has  become  too  ingrained  in  her  for  her  expres- 
sion to  change  suddenly,  and  her  joy  itself  will  bring  tears  and  not 
laughter."     Haigh,  "The  Attic  Theatre,"  pp.  2^4-5. 

*  "The  contrast  between  the  ancient  and  the  modern  actor  is 
marked  by  nothing  so  conspicuously  as  by  the  use  of  masks.  These 
masks,  or  similar  devices,  were  a  regular  feature  in  the  old  Dionysiac 
worship,  and  were  probably  inherited  as  such  by  the  tragic  stage,  and 
not  invented  to  set  purpose.  With  the  growth  of  tragedy  they  soon 
acquired  a  new  character.  Thespis,  the  earliest  of  the  tragic  actors, 
is  said  at  tlie  commencement  of  his  career  to  have  merely  painted  his 
face  with  white  lead  and  purslane.  Later  on  he  employed  masks; 
but  these  were  of  a  very  simple  character,  consisting  merely  of  linen, 
without  paint  or  coloring.  Chcerilus  introduced  certain  improve- 
ments which  are  not  specified.  Phrynichus  set  the  example  of  using 
female  masks.  ./^Ischylus  was  the  first  to  employ  painted  masks,  and 
to  portray  the  features  of  a  dreadful  and  awe-inspiring  character. 
Though  not  the  inventor  of  the  tragic  mask,  as  some  ancient  writers 
assert,  he  was  the  first  to  give  it  that  distinctive  character  from 
which  in  later  times  it  never  varied  in  detail.  After  the  time  of 
i^schylus  there  is  no  further  mention  of  any  radical  alterations  or 
improvements  in  the  manufacture  of  masks."  Haigh,  "The  Attic 
Theatre,"  p.  242. 


6o      THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

for  the  time  being  are  not  his  own  but  those  of 

another.  If  the  mask  represents  a  spirit,  either 
a  fantastic  one  of  their  own  imagination  or  one 
of  a  totem  animal,  the  wearer  will  be  imbued 
with  its  spiritual  essence.  At  the  Greek  period 
of  which  we  have  been  speaking,  no  such  re- 
ligious idea  was  attached  to  the  masks,  and 
they  were  used  merely  to  heighten  the  dramatic 
effect. 

Numerous  other  instances,  however,  could  be 
added  to  those  already  given  to  emphasize  more 
strongly  the  fact  that  there  is  a  widespread 
geographical  distribution  of  these  dramatic  cere- 
monies, connected  with  the  animal  food.  From 
the  Eskimo  of  the  north  to  the  Bushman  of  the 
south,  and  from  the  Australian  of  the  east  to 
the  American  Indian  of  the  west,  the  imitative 
desire  is  forever  asserting  itself  in  a  very  signifi- 
cant manner.  With  them  life  is  largely  taken 
up  with  the  struggle  for  existence,  hence  it  is 
only  natural  that  they  should  seize  upon  that 
which  they  hope  will  render  them  assistance  in 
this  fight.  For  them  the  dominant  motive  in 
all  of  these  ceremonies  is  religious.  Their  whole 
life  is  so  wrapt  up  with  the  imaginary  environ- 
ment that  they  spend  a  good  portion  of  their 
time  in  trying  to  obtain  the  favor  of  the  other- 


ANIMAL    FOOD    CEREMONIES  6i 

wise  unfriendly  spirits.  These  dramatic  repre- 
sentations of  the  things  which  they  desire  seem 
to  the  savage  mind  to  be  eminently  fitted  to 
appeal  to  the  spirits.  A  double  purpose  is 
served,  for  not  only  are  the  gods  amused  by  the 
portrayal,  but  they  are  also  induced  to  permit 
the  desired  request  to  be  granted.  As  civiliza- 
tion advances  the  religious  life  comes  to  mean 
less  and  less  to  the  people  and  a  very  much 
shorter  time  is  spent  in  the  ritualistic  observ- 
ances. But  on  the  savage  stage,  where  we  are 
making  our  study,  the  religious  element  is  for- 
ever present  in  nearly  all  observances. 

We  now  pass  to  a  consideration  of  the  drama 
as  expressed  in  the  vegetation  ceremonies.  It 
was  out  of  such  rites  as  these  that  the  Greek 
Drama  developed;  therefore  the  connection 
between  the  savage  and  the  civilized  theatre 
becomes   here   more   apparent. 


CEREMONIES  DEALING   WITH  PLANT 
FOOD 


CHAPTER   III 

CEREMONIES  DEALING   WITH  PLANT 
FOOD 

WE  have  tried  to  bring  out  in  the  last 
chapter  through  examples,  how  im- 
portant a  part  the  animal  food  cere- 
monies play  among  a  vast  majority  of  the  savage 
peoples.  This  can  mean  but  one  thing  —  that 
the  food  of  the  people  is  made  up  largely  of  meat, 
and  for  that  reason  they  are  willing  to  devote 
so  much  of  their  time  to  the  sympathetic  magic 
ceremonies  in  connection  with  its  procuring. 
As  man  moves  on  from  the  hunting  and  cattle 
raising  stages  to  the  agricultural  stage  we  find 
the  animal  ceremonies  decreasing  in  number, 
but  not  entirely  disappearing,  for  a  people, 
although  largely  dependent  upon  the  crops  for 
sustenance,  still  use  the  animals  for  food.  In 
the  early  stages  of  its  development  agriculture 
was  looked  upon  as  a  woman's  occupation,^  and 
so  for  that  reason  the  men  had  little  to  do  with 
it.     As  we  said  in  the  last  chapter,  the  women, 

'  Lippert,  "  Kulturgeschichte,"  Vol.    II,   p.   7;    A.  J.  and  F.  D. 
Herbertson,  "Man  and  His  Work,"  p.  59. 


66      THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

in  order  to  obtain  food  while  the  men  were  away 
on  the  hunt,  were  obliged  to  gather  the  fruits 
and  berries  which  grew  near  their  camp.  If 
the  animals  proved  scarce  and  the  men  came 
home  empty-handed,  they  were  glad  to  take  the 
food  which  the  women  had  collected.  As  time 
went  on,  the  women  learned  crude  forms  of 
planting  and  cultivation,  and  it  was  not  until 
this  stage  that  we  find  man's  scorn  changed  to 
interest.  Then  it  was  that  the  dramatic  rites 
in  connection  with  the  obtaining  of  vegetable 
food  appeared,  for  men  are  the  principal  ones 
who  communicate  with  the  spirit  w^orld. 

There  is,  however,  an  exception  to  the  state- 
ment that  people  who  neither  sow  nor  reap 
have  no  ceremonies  in  connection  with  these, 
for  in  Australia,  although  the  people  have  no 
idea  of  sowing  or  reaping,^  yet  they  perform  a 
few  plant  totem  ceremonies.  When  these  are 
enacted,  the  object  is  somewhat  different  from 
that  seen  in  similar  rites  in  other  parts  of  the 

1  A.  J.  and  F.  D.  Herbertson,"Man  and  HisWork,"  p.  59.  "The 
Fuegians,  Australians,  Bushmen,  and  many  tropical  forest  tribes 
have  no  idea  of  sowing  or  reaping.  Their  notions  are  limited  to 
gathering  such  roots  and  fruits  as  they  have  found  to  be  fit  for  food. 
Some  Australian  tribes  go  so  far  as  to  punish  the  uprooting  of  plants 
bearing  edible  fruits.  They  have  realized  the  folly  of  recklessly  de- 
stroying a  permanent  source  of  food,  but  have  not  yet  thought  of 
attempting  to  increase  it  by  efforts  of  their  own." 


PLANT  FOOD  CEREMONIES  G-j 

world.  There  is  here  a  double  purpose.  The 
first  is,  that  the  plants,  which  they  themselves 
use  for  food,  may  be  increased;  the  second,  and 
the  more  important  one,  is  that  the  plants  used 
by  the  animals  for  food  may  be  so  plentiful  that 
the  beasts  will  neither  move  to  some  far  distant 
place  nor  become  so  thin  as  to  be  unfit  for  food. 
In  more  civilized  communities,  where  the  cere- 
monies are  held  before  the  planting  of  the  crops 
in  the  spring  and  at  the  time  of  harvest  in  the 
fall,  the  intention  is  so  to  appeal  to  the  gods  of 
vegetation  that  they  will  support  the  efforts 
which  have  been  put  forth  by  man  in  his  en- 
deavor to  increase  the  food  supply.  In  Australia 
man  exerts  no  effort  as  far  as  agriculture  is 
concerned,  but  still  the  gods  are  asked  to  send 
an  abundance  of  plants.  The  rain  ceremonies 
are  enacted  not  only  with  the  hope  that  plants 
may  be  increased  for  man  and  the  animals, 
but  also  that  the  water  holes,  from  which  the 
supply  for  drinking  is  taken,  may  remain  so  full 
that  a  migration  to  a  new  part  of  the  country 
may  not  be  necessary. 

In  America,  where  agriculture  among  some 
tribes  had  reached  a  fairly  high  stage  of  devel- 
opment, there  appeared  ceremonies  in  connec- 
tion   with    the    sun    and    rain.     Two    of    these, 


68      THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

namely,  the  Sun  Dance  of  the  Plains  Indians 
and  the  Snake  or  Rain  Dance  of  the  Hopis, 
are  the  most  famous  of  all  the  savage  dramas. 
The  all-controlling  power  of  the  sun  and  the 
rain  were  very  early  recognized,  and  so  the 
growth  of  their  rites  occupied  an  important 
part  in  the  lives  of  these  people. 

One  of  the  commonest  types  of  the  rain- 
making  ceremony  appears  not  only  among 
many  of  the  savage  peoples,  but  also  in  various 
parts  of  Europe.  A  man,  who  is  the  rain-maker 
will  go  up  a  tree  and  sprinkle  water  on  the 
ground  to  represent  rain.  A  second  will  hit 
two  stones  together  to  represent  thunder;  and 
a  third  will  strike  a  fire  brand  until  the  sparks 
fly  in  representation  of  lightning.  This  is  as 
simple  a  sympathetic  magic  ceremony  as  can 
be  found,  but  it  has  in  it  the  basic  elements  of 
the  drama  —  that  is,   imitation   and   action.^ 

Among  the  savage  communities  in  America 
and  elsewhere,  where  long  periods  of  drought 
are  likely  to  destroy  the  plant  food,  the  "rain- 

'  A  ceremony  somewhat  similar  to  this  is  found  in  Russia,  W. 
Mannhardt,  "Antike  Wald  —  und  Feldkulte,"  p.  342  (note);  New 
Britain,  R.  Parkinson,  "Im  Bismarck  Archipel,"  p.  143;  Omaha 
Indians,  J.  O.  Dorsey,  "Omaha  Sociology,"  Third  Report  Bureau 
Ethnology,  1884  (p.  347);  Mexico,  C.  Lumholtz,  "  Unknown  Mexico," 
Vol.  I,  pp.  180,  330;  Swazi,  "Southeast  Africa,"  J.  MacDonald, 
"Religion  and  Myth,"  p.  10. 


FOOD  PLANT  CEREMONIES  69 

maker"  is  a  very  important  personage.  It 
usually  happens  that  he  is  the  medicine  man  of 
the  tribe  and  that  the  function  of  rain-making 
is  merely  one  of  his  many  duties.  However, 
in  places  where  disastrous  droughts  are  likely 
to  occur  to  the  detriment  of  the  crops  and  hence 
to  the  life  of  the  people,  a  separate  man  is 
appointed  for  this  position.  He  is  held  in  the 
highest  esteem  by  all  the  members  of  the  tribe, 
for,  as  they  think,  it  is  upon  his  good  will  that 
all  prosperity  depends.  As  a  rule,  when  rain  is 
wanted,  he  goes  through  a  very  elaborate  dra- 
matic ceremonial  with  the  help  of  other  members 
of  the  tribe.  Still  he  does  not  usually  begin 
until  he  determines  beforehand  by  observations 
of  weather  conditions  whether  he  is  likely  to  meet 
with  success.  If  he  finds  that  there  is  no  chance 
of  rain  he  has  some  very  good  excuse  why  at 
that  time  he  is  unable  to  perform  the  ceremony. 
If  he  sees  rain  is  imminent,  he,  along  with  those 
whom  he  has  chosen  to  help,  represents  in  a 
mimetic  way  the  gathering  of  the  clouds  and 
the   falling  of  the  water. 

In  the  case  of  some  peoples  who  have  water 
for  their  totem,  they  act  out  the  story  of  the 
wanderings  of  their  ancestors,  with  the  hope  that 
the  spirits  will  see  their  distress  and  grant  relief. 


JO      THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

They  feel  themselves  closely  allied  to  the  rain, 
and  so  for  that  reason  if  they  are  unable  to 
produce  it  they  think  that  there  is  something 
radically  wrong.  It  will  sometimes  be  the  cause 
for  a  war  with  another  tribe  if  the  drought  lasts, 
and  they  convince  themselves  that  it  has  been 
brought  about  by  a  counter  influence.  As  most 
of  the  rain  ceremonies  in  Australia  are  very 
similar,  it  is  necessary  to  describe  only  one.  In 
this,  as  in  nearly  all  other  savage  ceremonies, 
the  sympathetic  magic  idea  is  dominant. 

At  the  time  of  a  great  drought  the  members 
of  the  Dieri  tribe  come  together,  and  call  in 
loud  voices  upon  the  Mura-Muras  ^  for  the 
power  to  make  rain,  telling  them  of  the  impov- 
erished state  of  the  country  and  the  impossi- 
bility of  getting  plant  or  animal  food  for  the 
half-starved  people.  After  this  prayer,  which 
corresponds  roughly  to  the  prologue,  the  real 
ceremony  begins.  A  ditch  is  dug  about  twelve 
feet  long,  two  feet  deep,  and  from  eight  to  ten 
feet  wide.  Over  this  they  build  a  conical  hut 
of  logs  covered  with  branches.  The  hut  is 
only  large  enough  to  admit  the  old  men,  the 
younger  ones  being  obliged  to  sit  outside.  Two 
men    who    are    supposed     to    have    special     in- 

^  Mura-Muras  =  remote  ancestors. 


PLANT  FOOD  CEREMONIES  71 

spiration  from  the  Mura-Muras  are  chosen  to 
have  their  arms  hmced.  The  operation  is  per- 
formed by  an  old  and  influential  man  with  a 
sharp  piece  of  flint.  The  blood  is  made  to  flow 
on  the  men  who  are  seated  in  the  hut.  At 
the  same  time  the  two  bleeding  men  throw  hand- 
fuls  of  down  into  the  air,  part  of  which  sticks 
to  the  blood-covered  bodies  of  the  old  men  of  the 
tribe,  and  the  rest  floats  away.  This  blood 
symbolizes  the  rain;  the  down  symbolizes  the 
clouds.  During  the  ceremony,  two  large  stones 
are  placed  inside  of  the  hut  to  represent  gather- 
ing clouds  and  to  presage  rain.  The  men,  who 
were  bled,  carry  away  the  stones  to  a  distance 
of  ten  or  fifteen  miles,  where  they  place  them 
as  high  as  possible  in  a  tall  tree.  While  they 
are  gone  the  other  men  are  engaged  in  pulveriz- 
ing gypsum,  which  they  throw  into  a  water  hole. 
It  is  hoped  that  the  Mura-Muras  will  see  this 
and  send  the  rain-bearing  clouds.  If  no  clouds 
appear,  it  is  believed  that  the  Mura-Muras  are 
angry  with  them;  and  if  no  rain  occurs  for  a 
long  time,  it  is  thought  that  a  counter  influence 
is  being  worked  by  some  other  tribe. 

The  last  act  of  this  religious  drama  consists 
in  destroying  the  hut.  The  old  and  young 
men  rush  at  it  and  try  to  push  it  down  with  their 


72   THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

heads.  They  force  their  way  through  to  the 
other  side,  repeating  the  process  till  the  hut 
is  completely  demolished.  They  are  not  allowed 
to  use  their  hands  except  in  the  case  of  the  very 
heavy  logs.  "The  piercing  of  the  hut  with  their 
heads  symbolizes  the  piercing  of  the  clouds;  the 
fall  of  the  hut,  the  fall  of  the  rain."  ^  In  this 
ceremony,  as  performed  among  the  Dieri,  the 
play  is  carried  on  without  singing  and  with  very 
little  dancing,  but  in  Queensland  these  are  added. 
There,  after  the  men  have  gathered  in  the  hut, 
they  come  forth  dancing  and  singing.  They  go 
around  a  small  pond  which  has  been  dug  in 
front  of  the  hut,  mimicking  the  cries  and  antics 
of  the  various  aquatic  birds  and  animals,  such 
as  the  ducks  and  frogs.  During  this  part  of 
the  ceremony  the  women  of  the  tribe  have 
been  stationed  some  little  distance  away.  After 
the  men  have  finished  their  animal  dance,  the 
women  march  around  them  in  single  file,  and 
throw  powdered  quartz  crystals  over  them. 
While  doing  this,  the  women  hold  over  their 
heads  such  things  as  shields  and  pieces  of  bark, 

'  A.  W.  Howitt,  "The  Dieri  and  other  Kindred  Tribes  of  South 
Australia,"  20  J.  A.  T,  p.  91;  A.  W.  Howitt,  "The  Native  Tribes 
of  Southeast  Australia,"  pp.  394  ff.;  S.  Gason,  "The  Dieyerie 
Tribe,  Native  Tribes  of  South  Australia,"  pp.  276  ff.;  R.  B.  Smyth, 
"Aborigines  of  Victoria,"  Vol.  I,  pp.  467-8  (note). 


PLANT  FOOD  CEREMONIES  73 

pretending  that  they  are  sheltering  themselves 
from   a  heavy  shower.^ 

The  most  famous  of  all  the  rain-making  cere- 
monies which  take  place  among  savage  peoples 
is  that  of  the  Hopi  Indians.  This  has  been 
called  the  greatest  of  our  surviving  religious 
dramas.-  It  must  be  remembered  that  the  Hopi 
Indians  live  in  a  very  arid  region,  where  every 
drop  of  rain  is  needed  for  their  crops;  accord- 
ingly, each  of  the  seven  villages  holds  a  dance 
every  two  years,  in  the  belief  that  it  will  -add 
to  the  natural  rainfall.  These  are  the  noted 
snake  dances,  which  are  of  such  striking  simi- 
larity that  it  will  be  necessary  to  describe  but 
one. 

The  legend  upon  which  the  performance  of 
the  Snake  Dance  is  based  is  as  follows.^  The 
Zuiiis,  Hopis,  Paiutes,  and  the  Havasupais  made 
their  recent  ascent  from  the  lower  world  through 
the  Grand  Canyon  of  the  Colorado  River,  some 
going  north  and  others  south.  Those  that  went 
into   the   cold   region   were   driven   back   by  the 

'  W.  E.  Roth,  "Ethnological  Studies  among  the  North-West- 
Central  Queensland  Aborigines"  (Brisbane  &  London,  1897),  p.  167; 
J.  G.  Frazer,  "Golden  Bough,"  Vol.  I,  p.  255  (191 1). 

*  Major-General  McCook,  U.  S.  A.,  8  American  Anthropologist, 

P-  193- 

*  J.  W.  James,  "Indians  of  the  Painted  Desert,"  pp.  107  fF. 


74      THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

inclement  weather  and  so  took  up  their  abode 
at  a  place  called  To-ho-na-bi.  This  was  a  desert 
region  where  there  was  little  rain  and  conse- 
quently but  little  corn.  The  chief  of  the  vil- 
lage had  two  sons  and  two  daughters.  The 
older  boy,  Tiyo,  determined  to  return,  if  pos- 
sible, to  the  lower  world  and  there  learn  the  way 
of  obtaining  the  favor  of  the  gods.  He  sealed 
himself  into  a  coffin-like  boat  which  was  then 
placed  in  the  river.  After  being  tossed  about 
for  a  long  time  he  finally  came  to  the  home  of 
the  Spider  Woman,  who  was  able  to  weave  the 
clouds  and  cause  the  rain  to  fall.  She  showed 
him  the  way  to  reach  the  chamber  of  the  Snake- 
Antelope  peoples.  The  chief  received  him  with 
great  kindness  and  taught  him  the  ceremonies 
necessary  to  cause  the  rain  to  fall  and  the  wind 
to  blow.  He  was  also  taught  how  to  make  the 
various  paraphernalia  necessary  for  the  dance. 
Before  he  left,  he  was  given  two  women,  one 
for  himself  and  one  for  his  brother.  On  their 
way  back  they  stopped  to  see  the  Spider  Woman, 
who  put  them  in  a  basket  so  that  they  might 
return  to  the  upper  world.  When  Tiyo  reached 
home,  he  announced  that  he  would  celebrate 
his  marriage  feast  in  nine  days.  Five  days 
later   the   Snake   people   came   from    the   Under- 


PLANT  FOOD  CEREMONIES  75 

world,  went  into  the  kivas,^  ate  corn  pollen, 
and  then  disappeared.  Tiyo,  however,  knew 
that  they  had  only  changed  their  appearance, 
and  that  they  were  still  in  the  valley  in  the  form 
of  snakes  and  other  reptiles.  He  ordered  his 
people  to  go  and  capture  them,  and  after  they 
had  been  brought  in,  to  wash  them  and  dance 
with  them.  Four  days  were  devoted  to  their 
capture  —  one  for  each  of  the  four  world- 
quarters.  After  the  snakes  were  brought  in 
and  while  they  were  being  washed,  they  lis- 
tened to  the  prayers  that  were  uttered.  They 
then  went  out  and  danced  with  their  human 
brothers.  In  the  end,  they  were  taken  to  the 
valley  so  that  they  might  return  to  the  under- 
world, carrying  with  them  the  petitions  of  the 
men  on  the  earth.  This,  in  brief,  is  the  Snake 
legend,  which  is  acted  out  in  the  dance. 

The  whole  performance  of  the  Snake  Dance 
takes  about  nine  days,  the  first  eight  of  which 
are  occupied  with  the  collecting  and  the  pre- 
paring of  the  snakes  as  was  done  in  the  legend, 
the  making  of  a  certain  charmed  mixture  which 
is  supposed  to  have  the  effect  of  curing  any 
bites  which  the  performers  may  receive,  and  of 
making  and  blessing  all  the  paraphernalia  used 
in    the   big   dance,    which    comes   on    the    ninth 

'  Kiva  =  sacred  hut  in  which  preliminary  preparations  take  place. 


76      THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

day.  Throughout  all  of  these  ceremonies  there 
is  much  singing  and  praying  in  honor  of  the 
rain  god.  In  the  kiva  there  is  an  altar  erected, 
upon  which  the  hundred  or  more  snakes  used 
in  the  dance,  are  thrown  after  they  have  been 
washed  and  dusted  with  sacred  meal.  This 
altar  is  symbolic,  and  consists,  for  the  most  part, 
of  a  mosaic  made  of  different  colored  sands. 
These  sands  are  sprinkled  on  the  floor,  so  as 
to  form  a  border  of  several  parallel  rows  or  lines 
of  different  colors.  Within  this  border,  clouds 
are  represented,  below  which  four  zigzag  lines 
are  made.  These  lines  figure  the  lightning, 
which  is  the  symbol  of  the  Antelope  fraternity. 
Black  lines  represent  much  desired  and  sup- 
posedly impending  rain.  The  palladium  of  the 
fraternity,  made  of  feathers  and  strings,  is  placed 
in  the  corner.  Other  things  used  in  the  dance 
are  laid  on  different  parts  of  the  altar. 

On  the  ninth  day,  just  before  sunset,  the 
crowning  event  takes  place.  A  space  of  ground, 
preferably  rock  floor,  comprising  a  few  square 
rods,  is  chosen  as  the  stage  upon  which  the 
sacred  drama  is  to  be  portrayed.  At  one  side 
is  built  a  sort  of  bower  of  trees  about  eight 
or  ten  feet  in  height  and  five  or  six  feet  in  di- 
ameter.    In   front  of  the  bower  a  hole  is  dug  in 


PLANT  FOOD  CEREMONIES  ^1 

the  ground,  and  over  this  is  placed  a  board, 
which,  when  stepped  upon,  produces  a  hollow 
sound.  This  is  symbolic  of  the  entrance  to  the 
other  world,  and  later,  when  the  dancers  step 
upon  it,  the  purpose  is  to  call  the  attention  of 
their  brethren  below  to  the  ceremonial  about  to 
begin. ^  Those  taking  part  in  the  ceremony  are 
members  of  the  Snake  and  Antelope  clans,  usually 
about  twenty  in  number.  The  dancers  are  cos- 
tumed for  the  occasion,  and  much  paint  adorns 
their  faces.  The  Snake  men  carry  whips  in  their 
hands,  and  bags  of  sacred  meal,  while  the  leader 
of  the  Snake  Society  whirls  a  buzzing  stick. 

**The  Antelope  men  are  the  first  to  appear 
within  the  court.  They  march  four  times  around 
in  a  circle  and  take  positions  alongside  the  kisi^ 
facing  outward  from  it.  The  Snake  men  then 
enter,  marching  in  the  same  way  as  did  the 
members  of  the  other  society  and  scatter  sacred 
meal  near  the  bower.  Each  man,  as  he  comes 
along,  stamps  on  the  thick  board  already  de- 
scribed. As  has  been  noted,  this  is  to  attract 
the  attention  of  the  gods  to  the  zeal  and  faith- 

1  This  stamping  on  a  board  is  characteristic  of  the  "No"  plays  of 
Japan,  where  the  purpose  was  originally  to  call  the  attention  of  the 
sun  goddess.     M.  C.  Stopes,  "  Plays  of  Old  Japan  —  The  'No',"  p.  8. 

^  Kisi  =  a  bower  made  of  branches  of  trees  erected  on  the  dancing 
floor  where  the  snakes  are  kept  just  before  the  ceremony  begins. 


78      THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

fulness  of  the  performers.  The  Snake  men  then 
form  in  a  Hne  about  six  feet  from  the  Antelope 
men  and  face  them.  The  Antelope  men  lift  and 
drop  their  feet  in  perfect  time,  thus  produc- 
ing dull  blunt  sounds  from  the  tortoise  shells 
tied  to  their  legs,  and  simultaneously  shaking 
their  suggestive  hissing  rattles;  the  Snake  men, 
with  arms  linked  and  bodies  swaying  this  way 
and  that,  give  utterance  to  low  deep  chants. 

"A  moment  later  the  Snake  men  have  broken 
their  line  and  formed  into  squads  of  three, 
each  consisting  of  a  dancer,  a  wand-carrier,  or 
hugger,  and  a  gatherer.  The  Antelope  men  still 
remain  in  line.  One  squad  after  another  marches 
around  in  front  of  the  kisi.  A  serpent  is  handed 
by  the  keeper  to  a  dancer,  who  has  previously 
placed  meal  in  his  mouth.  Seizing  the  reptile 
he  takes  it  between  his  lips  a  few  inches  back 
of  the  head.  The  hugger  places  his  left  arm 
over  the  shoulder  of  the  dancer  and,  with  his 
right,  waves  his  feather  wand  before  the  eyes 
of  the  snake  to  attract  its  attention  and  keep 
it  from  burying  its  poisonous  fangs  in  the  face 
of  his  companion.  The  two  pass  around  the 
court,  pursuing  the  same  course  as  that  pre- 
viously taken  by  the  two  orders.  The  gatherer 
moves   along   near  by,  keeping  careful  watch  in 


PLANT  FOOD  CEREMONIES  79 

order  to  pick  up  the  serpent  in  case  it  should 
wriggle  out  of  the  mouth  of  the  dancer.  Other 
squads  follow  and  soon  there  is  a  line  of  these 
performers  moving  round  and  round,  the  snakes 
twisting  and  wriggling  and  throwing  their  heads 
about  in  the  air,  the  wands  rapidly  rotating  and 
gyrating,  the  various  shells  and  rattles  producing 
a  most  doleful  noise.  When  the  snake  becomes 
ungovernable,  the  dancer  lets  it  drop  from  his 
mouth  upon  the  ground  and  it  is  picked  up  by 
the  gatherer.  When  one  serpent  has  fallen 
from  the  mouth  of  the  dancer,  he  with  his  hugger 
marches  around  at  once  to  the  kisi  for  another. 
This  is  continued  until  all  the  animals  are  carried. 
The  gatherer,  as  well  as  the  hugger,  carries 
a  wand,  and  if  the  snake  which  has  been  dropped 
to  the  ground  coils  to  strike,  he  waves  the  wand 
above  the  maddened  creature  until  it  uncoils 
to  run  away,  when  he  catches  it  around  the 
neck  and  carries  it  with  him.  The  gatherers 
carry  bags  of  sacred  meal,  and  scatter  portions 
of  the  contents  upon  the  animals,  before  seizing 
them.  When  the  performers  are  going  round 
and  round  with  their  strange  talismans,  the 
snake  women  stand  just  outside  the  line  of  march 
and  throw  sacred  meal  on  each  as  he  passes. 
As  the  serpents  accumulate  in  the  hands  of  the 


8o      THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

gatherer  so  that  he  cannot  conveniently  handle 
them,  he  passes  them  over  to  the  Antelope  men, 
who  hold  them  during  the  remainder  of  the 
ceremony. 

"The  final  act  of  this  strange  drama  occurs 
a  little  later  when  the  chief  Snake  priest  draws 
a  sacred  meal  circle  some  four  or  five  feet  in 
diameter  and,  within  it,  six  radiating  lines  repre- 
senting the  four  cardinal  points,  the  zenith  and 
the  nadir.  With  a  rush  the  reptiles  are  piled 
within  the  ring.  As  they  crawl  and  squirm 
about  within  the  enclosed  space,  they  form  a 
comparatively  level  heap  sometimes  several 
inches  in  height.  The  men  thrust  their  naked 
arms  into  the  heap  and  drag  out  as  many  as 
their  hands  can  hold,  and  rush  with  them  out 
of  the  village  down  to  the  plains  below,  there 
to   set   them   free."^ 

As  we  said  at  the  beginning  of  this  descrip- 
tion,  the  Snake   Dance  is  the   acting  out  of  an 

^  Fynn,  "The  American  Indian  as  a  Product  of  Environment," 
pp.  212-226;  G.  W.  James,  "Indians  of  the  Painted  Desert,"  pp. 
103-117;  J.  W.  Fewkes,  "Snake  Ceremonies  at  Walpi,"  Journal  of 
American  Ethnology  and  Archaeology,  Vol.  IV,  1894;  "Hopi  Snake 
Washing,"  11  American  Anthropologist,  p.  313;  J.  G.  Bourke, 
"The  Snake  Dance  of  the  Moquis  of  Arizona";  Dorsey  and  Voth, 
"Mishongovoni  Ceremonies  of  the  Snake  and  Antelope  Fraternities," 
Field  Columbian  Museum  Publication,  Anthropological  Series  III, 
No.  3,  1902. 


PLANT  FOOD  CEREMONIES  8i 

old  legend  which  was  invented  by  the  people 
to  account  for  the  phenomenon  of  rain,  which 
had  for  them  no  scientific  explanation.  Most 
of  the  early  myths  had  a  deep  religious  sig- 
nificance and  were  closely  bound  up  with  the 
spiritual  life  of  the  people.  Many  have  supposed 
that  this  Snake  Dance  is  an  act  of  serpent  wor- 
ship, but  this  is  not  true,  for  the  snakes  sym- 
bolize to  them  the  embodiments  of  the  spirits  of 
their  ancestors  from  whom  they  obtained  the 
knowledge  of  rain-making.  In  the  propitiation 
of  the  Spider  Woman  at  her  shrine  in  the  kiva 
by  offerings  of  prayer  and  food,  the  chief  Ante- 
lope priest  expresses  to  her  a  desire  for  rain. 
"She  is  asked  to  weave  the  clouds,  for  without 
them  no  rain  can  descend.  The  lightning  symbol 
of  the  Antelope  priests;  the  shaking  of  the 
rattles,  which  sounds  like  the  falling  rain;  the 
use  of  the  whizzer  to  produce  the  sounds  of  the 
coming  storm,  —  these  and  other  similar  things 
show  the  intimate  association  of  the  dance  with 
rain  and  its  making. 

"The  use  of  snakes  is  for  a  double  purpose. 
In  celebrating  this  ceremony  it  is  the  desire  of 
the  snake  clan  to  reproduce  the  original  condi- 
tions of  its  performance  as  nearly  as  possible, 
in  order  to  gain  all  the  efficacy  they  desire  for 


82      THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

their  petitions.  In  the  original  performance 
the  prayers  of  the  Snake  Mother  were  the  potent 
ones.  Hence  the  snakes  must  now  be  introduced 
to  make  potent  prayers. 

"The  other  idea  is,  that  the  snakes  act  as 
intermediaries  to  convey  to  the  Snake  Mother 
in  the  underworld  the  prayers  for  rain  and  corn 
growth,  that  her  cl.ildren  on  earth  have  ut- 
tered." ^  But  it  is  even  more  than  this  —  it  is 
the  essential  element  in  their  religious  life  and 
is  to  them  as  important  as  the  mass  is  to  those 
in  the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  Their  whole 
life  is  bound  up  with  this  ceremonial,  and  if  any 
slip  is  made  in  the  performance  they  expect  to 
feel  the  wrath  of  the  gods  visited  upon  them  in 
the  form  of  a  drought. 

Equally  important  for  agriculture  as  the  rain, 
is  the  heat  of  the  sun.  There  are,  however, 
comparatively  few  sun  ceremonies  among  savage 
peoples,  for  the  reason  that  most  of  them  are 
living  in  a  tropical  or  semitropical  region  where 
there  is  no  lack  of  heat.  Those  who  inhabit 
the  far  north  have  no  agriculture,  so  that  they 
have  no  special  need  either  for  the  rain  or  sun.^ 

*  G.  W.  James,  "  Indians  of  the  Painted  Desert,"  p.  122. 

'  "On  tlie  geographical  significance  of  sun-worship,  D'Orbigny  has 
made  a  remark,  suggestive,  if  not  altogether  sound,  connecting  the 
worship  of  the  sun  not  so  much  with  the  torrid  regions,  where  his  glar- 


PLANT   FOOD  CEREMONIES  83 

Only  among  a  few  of  the  savages  living  in  the 
temperate  zone,  where  an  even  distribution  of 
rain  and  sunshine  is  needed  for  the  crops,  do 
we  find  the  ceremonies  connected  with  the  sun. 

On  January  23,  1912,  there  took  place  at  the 
Pueblo  village  of  San  Ildefonso,  in  New  Mexico, 
a  Buffalo  Dance  to  the  Sun  God.  "The  dance 
in  which  several  hundred  Indians  participated 
is  of  heathen  origin,  and  is  performed  as  it  was 
before  the  days  of  Columbus.  The  Indians  say 
that  no  alteration  has  been  made  in  the  dance 
in  a  thousand  years,  and  some  of  the  masks  and 
costumes  used  are  hundreds  of  years  old.  The 
theme  of  the  dance  is  an  entreaty  to  the  sun 
god  to  grant  a  year  of  plenty  of  game  and  corn. 
At  dawn  the  bucks,  disguised  as  buffalo,  deer, 
antelope,  and  elk,  marched  in  a  single  file  from 
a  gap  in  the  mountains  into  a  pueblo,  where 
they  joined  the  squaws  in  a  measure,  to  the 
sound  of  a  chorus  of  voices,  and  beat  of  cotton- 
wood  drums."  ^ 

ing  heat  oppresses  man  all  day  long,  and  drives  him  to  the  shade  for 
refuge,  as  with  climates  where  his  presence  is  welcomed  for  his  life- 
giving  heat,  and  nature  chills  at  his  departure.  Thus  while  the  low 
sultry  forests  of  South  America  show  little  prominence  of  Sun-worship, 
this  is  the  dominant  organized  cultus  of  the  high  table-lands  of  Peru 
and  Cundinamarca."  E.  B.  Tylor,  "Primitive  Culture,"  Vol.  II, 
p.  286. 

The  New  York  Times,  January  24,  191 2. 


84   THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

The  most  famous  of  all  these  is  the  Sun  Dance 
of  the  Plains  Indians.^  This  ceremony,  which 
takes  place  as  a  rule  during  the  summer  months 
and  has  as  its  object  the  overcoming  of  certain 
hostile  cosmic  forces,  abounds  in  symbols.  The 
principal  theme  seems  to  be  the  attack  upon  the 
sun  dancers,  who  defeat  the  solar  god  by  their 
"medicine"  and  compel  the  "thunder  bird"  to 
allow  the  rain  to  fall.  The  dance  is  very  often 
given  as  a  vow  in  case  of  sickness,  lunacy,  or 
bad  dreams,  and  is  a  sort  of  propitiatory  offering 
by  the  one  who  wishes  to  be  cured,  to  the  great 
ruling    power  —  the    sun. 

Before  the  dance  begins,  there  is  a  very  elab- 
orate stage  setting  constructed,  each  part  of 
which  has  a  symbolic  meaning.  The  following 
diagram  describes  this  in  a  general  way. 

A.  Camp    Circle,    with    the    opening    towards 

the    East. 

B.  Secret    Tipi.     Various    secret    rites    by    the 

priests  take  place  in  this  tipi,  such  as 
smoking,  fasting,  praying  and  prepara- 
tion of  objects  that  are  to  be  worn 
during  the  public  ceremony. 

C.  Lodge.     The    selection    of  the   centre    pole 

is  the  most  important  part  of  its  build- 

*  This  dance  takes  place  among  the  Cree,  Siksika,  Arapaho, 
Cheyenne,  Assiniboin,  Ponca,  Shoshoni,  and  the  Ute  Indians. 


PLANT  FOOD  CEREMONIES  85 

ing,  for  it  represents  the  sun.  After  the 
completion  of  the  lodge  all  the  priests 
reside  there  until  the  end  of  the  per- 
formance. 
D.  Altar.  This  varies  from  a  simple  buffalo 
skull  and  pile  on  a  cleared  circle  of 
earth,  as  among  the  Ponca,  to  a  very 
elaborate  arrangement,  as  among  the 
Cheyenne. 

North 


West    \  ^vx  n    ^-^  C      East 


South 
The  Cafnp  Circle  symbolizes  the  constellation 
Corona  Borealis,  which  is  frequently  spoken  of 
by  the  plains  tribes  as  the  camp  circle  of  the 
gods  above.  Again,  the  camp  circle  may  be 
regarded  as  symbolizing  the  horizon,  standing 
for  the  universe.  The  Tipi  of  Secret  Preparation 
corresponds  to  the  sacred  mountain  to  which 
the   originator   of  the   ceremony    repaired    when 


86      THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

in   distress.     In   the   course   of  the   ceremony   it 
is   related   that   in   the   past   during   a   period   of 
famine   a  warrior  wandered   forth   with    a   com- 
panion and  encountered  a  god  who  taught  them 
the  ceremony.     On  their  return  to  the  tribe  they 
caused    it    to    be    performed    and    this    brought 
rehef  and    a   boundless   supply   of  food   through 
the  appearance  of  the  buffalo  —  an  animal  which 
up    to    that    time    had    never    appeared.     Hence 
the  Sun   Dance  is  the  acting  out  of  the   life  of 
some  mythical  ancestor,  assisted  by  various  sym- 
bolic   articles   which    were    supposed    to    play    a 
prominent  part  in  his  life.     If  we  look  back  for 
a  moment  to  the  Snake  Dance,  it  will  be  noticed 
that  in  the  legend  there,  a  youth  wanders  away, 
reaches  a  mystic  land  where  he  learns  the  means 
of  performing  the  necessary  ceremony,  and  then, 
when    he    returns,    teaches    it    to    his    people    so 
that  they   are  able  to  accomplish  it.     Many  of 
the  legends  of  the  savages  are  supposed  to  have 
had  divine   origin,  and   the   connection   is   made 
between  this  and  the  spirit  world  by  some  one 
who  wanders  to  the  latter  and  is  there  taught  by 
the  gods.     This  explains  clearly  why  there  is  such 
a  close  relationship  between  myths  and  religion. 

The   lodge   itself  represents   this   earth   as  the 
home   of  man.      Its   construction   forms    a   very 


PLANT  FOOD  CEREMONIES  87 

important  part  of  the  ceremony.  A  sacred  tree 
in  the  forest  is  found,  cut  down,  and  set  up  as 
the  centre  pole  of  the  lodge.  It  is  in  the  fork 
of  this  pole  that  the  nest  of  the  thunder  bird 
is  supposed  to  be.  The  finished  lodge  is  circular 
in  form  and  from  sixty  to  one  hundred  feet 
in  diameter.  The  only  opening  is  towards  the 
east.  When  it  is  finished  the  priests  abandon 
the  Tipi  of  Secret  Preparation  and  take  up  their 
quarters  in  the  new  lodge  for  the  rest  of  the 
ceremony,  which,  from  the  beginning  of  the 
secret  preparation  to  the  end,  lasts  eight  days. 

The  altar  is  a  cleared  circle  of  earth  with  a 
buffalo  skull  in  the  centre.  Around  this  are 
curious  "sand  paintings"  —  that  is,  sands  of 
different  colors  are  arranged  in  various  mystic 
patterns.  Green  bushes  and  young  trees  are 
stuck  in  the  ground  around  the  altar. 

Before  the  dance  begins,  the  priests  decorate 
the  bodies  of  those  who  are  to  take  part.  The 
designs  which  are  used  are  symbols  of  the  sun, 
the  moon,  and  the  morning  star.  Around  their 
heads,  waists,  wrists,  and  ankles  the  dancers 
wear  wreaths,  which  are  emblems  of  the  sun. 
Four  of  the  old  men  who  take  part  in  the  per- 
formance are  supposed  to  represent  the  four 
quarters  of  the  earth. 


88      THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

Among  the  Arapahoes  before  the  beginning  of 
the  dance  the  following  pra\er  is  offered  to  the 
Sun.  "My  Grandfather,  Light  of  the  World, 
Old  Woman  Night,  My  Grandmother,  —  I  stand 
here  before  this  people,  old  and  young.  May 
whatever  they  undertake  to  do  in  this  ceremony 
and  may  their  desires  and  wishes  and  anxieties 
in  their  everyday  life,  meet  with  your  approval 
—  may  the  growing  corn  not  fail  them,  and  may 
everything  they  put  in  the  ground  mature,  in 
order  that  they  may  have  food  and  nourishment 
for  their  children  and  friends.  May  whatever 
light  comes  from  above,  and  also  the  rain,  be 
strengthened  to  them,  that  they  may  live  on 
the  earth  under  your  protection  .  .  ."  ^ 

The  various  portions  of  this  dramatic  Sun 
Dance  deal  with  the  legends  of  the  past.  The 
forces  of  nature  are  personified  and  the  continual 
struggle  for  mastery  between  them  is  graphically 
portrayed.  During  one  part  of  the  dance  the 
actors  form  in  line  and  blow  whistles  made  from 
the  wing  bone  of  the  eagle.  This  accompanies 
the  song  of  the  musicians,  who  are  seated  about 
a  large  drum  at  the  entrance  of  the  lodge. 
It  is   supposed    to    be    symbolic    of    the  breath 

'  G.  A.  Dorsey,  "  Arapaho  Sun  Dance,"  Field  Museum,  Anthropo- 
logical Series  IV,  1903,  p.  36. 


PLANT    FOOD    CEREMONIES  89 

of  life,   and  to  represent  the  cry  of  the  thunder 
bird. 

Portions  of  the  dance  which  used  to  be  con- 
sidered essential,  but  which  have  lately  been 
abolished  by  the  United  States  Government, 
were  the  various  tortures  which  were  endured. 
An  Indian  would  fasten  into  the  flesh  of  his 
breast  the  ends  of  two  rawhide  thongs  which 
hung  from  the  top  of  the  sacred  pole.  Through 
the  flesh  of  his  back  and  hips  knives  were  thrust 
and  through  the  four  holes  thus  made,  short 
thongs  were  passed  and  securely  fastened  to  the 
flesh.  To  the  end  of  each  of  these  thongs  a 
buff"alo  skull  was  tied,  which  dragged  on  the 
ground.  The  purpose  of  the  warrior  was  to 
dance  around  until  the  thongs  were  torn  from 
his  breast,  and  when  thus  released,  to  continue 
dancing  until  the  heavy  skulls  had  pulled  the 
other  thongs  loose  from  his  bleeding  back  and 
thighs.  His  friends  and  family,  mad  with  reli- 
gious zeal  and  enthusiasm,  danced  around  him, 
chanting  songs  and  urging  him  to  bear  his  suf- 
fering bravely.  This  self-inflicted  torture  is  a 
penance  and  is  done  in  order  that  special  favors 
may  be  obtained  from  the  gods.^ 

'  G.  A.  Dorsey,  30  Bulletin,  Bureau  of  Ethnology,  Vol.  II,  p.  651; 
H.  L.  Scott,  "Notes  on  the  Kado,  or  Sun  Dance,  of  the  Kiowa,"  13 


90      THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

A  religious  drama  such  as  this,  with  its  music, 
dancing,  and  symboHsm,  is  not  very  far  removed 
from  the  plays  of  the  early  Greek  period.  There 
the  myths  of  the  gods  of  vegetation  were  acted 
out;  here  among  the  Indians  the  legend  in 
connection  with  the  Sun  and  the  other  elements. 
They   both   show  the   striving  of  a   mind   unde- 

American  Anthropologist,  p.  345;  L.  Farrand,  "Basis  of  American 
History,"  pp.  138  fF.;  A.J.  Fynn,  "The  American  Indian  as  a  Product 
of  Environment,"  pp.  185  fF.;  G.  A.  Dorsey,  "Arapaho  Sun  Dance," 
Field  Museum  Anthropological  Series,  Vol.  IV.,  Chicago,  1903; 
A.  C.  Fletcher,  "The  Sun  Dance  of  the  Ogalalla  Sioux,"  Proc. 
A.  A.  A.  S.,  Vol.  31,  1882,  pp.  580  ff.;  G.  H.  Pond,  "Dakota  Sun 
Dance,"  Minn.  Hist.  Coll.,  Vol.  II,  pp.  166  fF.;  J.  0.  Dorsey,  "A 
Study  of  the  Siouan  Cults,"  Report  Bureau  Ethnology.  Vol.  II,  "The 
Sun  Dance,"  pp.  450  fF. 

The  Hartford  Times,  Nov.  15,  1913.  "The  federal  government 
has  decided  not  to  permit  in  the  future  this  most  important  of  all  the 
ceremonials  of  the  plains  tribes.  It  contends  that  such  performances 
have  a  tendency  to  'retard  the  moral  and  material  welfare'  of  the 
Indians."  The  missionaries  thought  that  the  performance  was 
heathenish,  and  that  it  tended  to  delay  the  progress  of  Christianity 
among  the  plains  tribes.  So  it  is  that  little  by  little  the  dramatic 
ceremonies  of  the  savages  are  being  pushed  aside  by  the  rapid  advance 
of  civilization,  and  it  is  only  the  matter  of  a  few  years  when  these 
ceremonies  will  have  become  merely  memories.  Indian  Office  Regu- 
lations, Art.  4,  Section  584.  "The  'sun  dance,'  and  all  other  similar 
dances  and  so-called  religious  ceremonies,  shall  be  considered  'Indian 
offenses,'  and  any  Indian  found  guilty  of  being  a  participant  in  any 
one  or  more  of  these  'offenses'  shall,  for  the  first  offense  committed, 
be  punished  by  withholding  from  him  his  rations  for  a  period  not 
exceeding  ten  days;  and  if  found  guilty  of  any  subsequent  offense 
under  this  rule,  shall  be  punished  by  withholding  his  rations  for  a 
period  not  less  than  fifteen  days  nor  more  than  thirty  days,  or  by 
incarceration  in  the  agency  prison  for  a  period  not  exceeding  thirty 
days." 


PLANT    FOOD    CEREMONIES  91 

veloped,  first,  to  account  for  the  natural  phe- 
nomena, and  second,  to  appeal  to  the  ruling 
spirits  for  some  of  the  necessaries  of  life.  It 
is  only  a  step  from  the  time  when  the  religious 
element  is  predominant  to  the  time  when  this 
disappears  entirely,  leaving  a  play  which  is 
performed  for  the  pleasure  which  it  gives  to  the 
actors  and  spectators. 

In  the  religious  myth  plays  of  the  savages 
which  have  been  described  in  this  chapter,  we 
have  the  connecting  link  between  a  low  and  a 
high  stage  of  culture,  or  rather  between  the 
highest  of  a  low  stage  and  the  lowest  of  a  high 
stage.  At  this  point  of  union,  agriculture  forms 
one  of  the  chief  sources  of  the  food  supply  and 
it  is  little  wonder  then  that  around  this  there 
should  be  woven  a  vast  network  of  myths  and 
legends,  the  purpose  of  which  is  to  account  by 
pseudo-scientific  means  for  the  otherwise  unex- 
plainable  phenomena,  and  at  the  same  time 
enroll  the  spiritual  element  of  the  other  world 
on  the  side  of  struggling  man.  It  was  out  of 
the  personification  of  these  forces,  as  combined 
in  the  all-fertilizing  power  of  the  sun,  that  the 
drama  of  the  Greeks  and  that  of  the  Japanese 
grew.  A  comparison  of  the  origin  and  devel- 
opment of  the  dramas  of  the  savages,  the  Greeks 


92      THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

and  the  Japanese,  will  be  dealt  with  somewhat 
at  length  in  the  next  chapter. 

From  this  chapter  it  is  evident  that  as  people 
move  from  the  hunting  or  a  partial  hunting 
stage  to  the  agricultural,  the  number  of  cere- 
monies in  connection  with  plant  food  greatly 
increases.  As  we  have  seen,  those  peoples  whose 
life  is  devoted  to  hunting  have  many  ceremonies 
in  connection  with  the  animals.  If  plants 
enter  to  any  extent  into  their  food  supply,  they 
have  a  few  more  or  less  dramatic  rites  for  the 
purpose  of  increasing  the  store  of  them.  But 
where  agriculture  plays  an  important  part,  as 
in  North  America,  the  ceremonies  are  very 
numerous.  The  spirits  of  the  dead  seem  to 
occupy  those  things  which  form  the  chief  means 
of  subsistence  for  the  living  man,  whether  it 
be  animal  or  plant,  and  hence  are  appealed  to 
in  order  that  through  their  beneficent  influence 
the  people  may  not  starve. 


POINTS  OF  COMPARISON  BETWEEN 

THE   SAVAGE  DRAMA   AND   THAT 

OF  THE  GREEKS  AND 

JAPANESE 


CHAPTER  IV 

POINTS  OF  COMPARISON  BETWEEN 

THE   SAVAGE  DRAMA  AND   THAT 

OF   THE  GREEKS  AND 

JAPANESE 

CONSIDERABLE  light  may  be  thrown 
on  the  drama  of  civiHzed  peoples  by 
comparing  the  legends,  myths,  and  plays 
of  the  higher  culture  with  the  ceremonies  and 
dramatic  rites  of  savages.  The  basis  of  com- 
parison lies  in  the  myths,  for  in  them  we  see 
the  strivings  of  minds,  simple  and  uninstructed, 
to  account  for  the  phenomena  of  nature.  In 
this  connection  Lang  says,  "Just  as  Socrates  in 
the  Platonic  dialogues  recalls  or  invents  a  myth 
in  the  despair  of  reason,  so  the  savage  has  a 
story  for  answer  to  almost  every  question  that 
he  can  ask  himself.  These  stories  are  in  a  sense 
scientific,  because  they  attempt  a  solution 
of  the  riddles  of  the  world.  They  are  in  a  sense 
religious,  because  there  is  usually  a  super- 
natural power,  a  dcus  ex  machina  of  some  sort, 


96      THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

to  cut  the  knot  of  the  problem.  Such  stories, 
then,  are  the  science,  and  to  certain  extent  the 
rehgious  tradition,  of  the  savages."  ^ 

A  detailed  description  of  the  rise  of  the  nature- 
myths  in  Greece,  or  of  their  development  through 
their  various  stages  until  they  appear  in  the 
plays  as  written  by  iEschylus,  Sophocles,  Eu- 
ripides, and  Aristophanes  is  not  germane  to  the 
topic  before  us.  They  probably  arose  through 
the  worship  of  the  gods  of  vegetation  or  pos- 
sibly through  the  worship  of  the  sun,  and  in 
their  onward  march  they  served  to  explain  the 
change  of  the  seasons,  the  fruition  of  the  crops, 
and  the  fertility  of  the  vine.  The  god  who 
appeared  with  the  greatest  regularity  in  these 
myths  was  Dionysus,  in  honor  of  whom  the 
plays  were  written.-  He  has  been  thought  by 
various    writers    to    have    been    a    personification 

1  Lang,  "Myth,  Ritual,  and  Religion,"  Vol.  I,  p.  49. 

^  In  Egypt,  that  country  which  was  so  greatly  admired  by  the 
Greeks,  among  other  reasons  because  of  its  religious  development, 
there  were  performed  many  rites  in  connection  with  Isis  and  Osiris; 
and  it  was  not  until  these  gods  were  accepted  by  the  Greeks,  in  modi- 
fied forms  (Dionysus  and  Adonis),  that  there  appears  any  ceremony 
which  can  truly  be  called  dramatic. 

That  the  Greek  Dionysus  was  nothing  but  a  slightly  disguised 
form  of  the  Egyptian  Osiris  has  been  held  by  Herodotus  in  ancient 
and  by  Mr.  Foucart  in  modern  times.  See  Herodotus,  Vol.  II, 
p.  49;  P.  Foucart,  "  Le  Culte  de  Dionysus  en  Attique"  (Paris,  1904); 
Frazer,  "Golden  Bough,  Adonis  —  Attis  —  Osiris,"  p.  344  note. 


SAVAGE,    GREEK,   JAPANESE    DRAMAS    97 

of  the  sun,  or  of  the  seasons,  or  of  vegetation  in 
general,  or,  finally,  of  the  vine.^  It  is  important 
to  notice  here  that  among  some  savage  peoples 
the  cult  of  the  sun  god  and  of  various  vegetation 
gods  forms  the  basis  for  a  large  number  of  their 
dramatic  rites.  In  fact  these  rites  were  but  a 
specialized  part  of  the  ritual.  The  purpose  in 
both  the  high  and  low  civilizations  was  the  same, 
namely,  to  act  out  the  myths  so  that  the  spirits 
would  understand  the  exact  nature  of  the  re- 
quests and  at  the  same  time,  by  reason  of  their 
anthropomorphic  characters,  receive  pleasure  at 
the   performance. 

While  the  myth  was  the  subject-matter  com- 
mon to  the  drama  of  the  savage  as  to  that  of 
the  Greek,  it  was  the  dance  which  united  these 
two  on  the  basis  of  action.  It  is  possible  to 
point  out  a  great  many  survivals  of  the  savage 
drama  in  even  the  highest  stage  of  the  Greek 
drama.     This   can    be   done   more    readily,    since 

*  For  a  full  discussion  of  the  rise  and  development  of  these  myths 
see:  Lang,  "Myth,  Ritual,  and  Religion,"  Vol.  I;  Frazer,  "Golden 
Bough  —  Spirits  of  the  Corn  and  of  the  Wild";  Barnett,  "The 
Greek  Drama";  Foucart,  "Le  Culte  de  Dionysus  en  Attique"; 
Frazer,  "Adonis,  Attis,  Osiris";  Sumner,  "Folkways";  Harrison, 
"Ancient  Art  and  Ritual";  Ilaigh.  "The  Attie  Theatre";  L.  Camp- 
bell, "Religion  in  Greek  Literature";  Donaldson,  "Theatre  of  the 
Greeks";  Aristotle,  "Poetics,"  IV,  12;  Harrison,  "Themis"; 
Buckham,  "Theatre  of  the  Greeks." 


98      THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

the  highest  Greek  drama  still  dealt  with  the 
myths.  Of  course  the  more  sophisticated  race 
infused  in  these  myths,  elements  and  interpre- 
tations that  could  not  have  been  the  product  of 
anything  short  of  a  developed  civilization.  But 
a  similar  comparison  with  later  literature,  such 
as  the  Elizabethan  drama,  would  be  less  pro- 
ductive, because  the  latter  is  much  further 
advanced  in  both  subject-matter  and  mode  of 
handling.  Naturally  the  greatest  weight  is  to 
be  laid  upon  the  earlier  stages  of  the  Greek 
drama   rather  than  the  later. 

A  number  of  peoples  who  worship  a  god  of 
vegetation  and  fruition  express  the  idea  of 
spring,  the  awakening  of  new  life,  by  lively 
actions.  This  they  do  in  the  dance.  We  know 
that  most  of  the  savage  drama  is  danced;  in 
fact,  this  desire  for  lively  rhythmical  action  is 
implanted  in  man  as  deeply  as  is  the  dramatic 
desire,  and  there  are  no  races,  even  on  the  lowest 
scale  of  social  development,  who  do  not  exhibit 
it.  They  also  have  many  dances  which  are  not 
of  a  mimetic  character  but  which  may  be  termed 
gymnastic,^  and  consist  in  jumping  about  with 
movements    more   or   less    rhythmical.^     In    this, 

1  Grossc,  "The  Beginnings  of  Art,"  p.  207. 

^  This  latter  fact  comes  about  through  the  very  physical  make-up 


SAVAGE,   GREEK,    JAPANESE    DRAMAS      99 

too,  the  Greeks  were  proficient,  for  many  of  the 
dances  around  the  altar  of  the  god  were  not 
mimetic,  but  were  performed  much  as  are  some 
of  the  dances  of  a  savage  people,  around  the 
graves  of  the  dead  or  around  their  camp  fires 
at   night. 

Dancing  remained  an  important  feature 
throughout  the  entire  evolution  of  Greek  dra- 
matic art,  although  many  of  the  other  elements 
which  appeared  in  its  early  history  had  entirely 
vanished  by  the  time  of  the  great  dramatists. 
In  this  later  stage  the  poetry  was  the  principal 
feature  of  the  performance,  while  the  music  and 
dancing    were    subordinate.     Moreover,    dancing 

of  man.  His  heart  beats  in  a  rhythmical  way  and  when  he  walks 
there  is  a  regular  rhythm  to  his  step.  Practically  all  of  the  reports 
which  come  to  us  concerning  the  music  and  dancing  of  the  savages 
agree  on  the  fact  that  they  are  rhythmical,  although  they  may  be  far 
from  possessing  those  qualities  of  beauty  which  appeal  to  the  eye  and 
ear  of  a  civilized  man.  Grosse  says,  "This  enjoyment  of  rhythm  is 
without  doubt  deeply  seated  in  the  human  organization.  It  is, 
however,  an  exaggeration  to  say  that  the  rhythmical  is  always  the 
natural  form  of  our  movements;  however,  a  large  portion  of  them, 
particularly  those  which  serve  in  making  a  change  of  place,  are  exe- 
cuted naturally  in  rhythmical  form.  Further,  every  stronger  emo- 
tional excitement,  as  Spencer  has  justly  observed,  tends  to  express 
itself  in  rhythmical  movements  of  the  body;  and  Gurney  adds  the 
pertinent  remark  that  every  emotional  movement  is  in  and  of  itself 
rhythmical.  In  this  way  the  rhythm  of  the  motions  of  the  dance 
appears  to  be  simply  the  natural  form  of  the  movements  of  loco- 
motion sharply  and  powerfully  exalted  by  the  pressure  of  emotional 
excitement."     "The  Beginnings  of  Art,"  p.  223. 


lOO    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

was  seldom  introduced  by  itself  as  a  mere  spec- 
tacle; it  was  mainly  used  in  combination  with 
singing,  to  interpret  and  add  vividness  to  the 
words  of  the  song.  The  music,  the  poetry,  and 
the  dancing  were  blended  together  into  one 
harmonious  whole,  each  part  gaining  an  advan- 
tage by  its  combination  with  the  other  two.^ 
Most,  if  not  all,  of  the  choruses  were  accom- 
panied by  dances  of  one  sort  or  another.  To 
the  Greek  mind  there  was  an  inseparable  con- 
nection between  song  and  dance,  and  the  notion 
of  choral  singing  unaccompanied  by  dancing 
would  have  appeared  strange  and  unusual.  The 
two  arts  had  grown  and  developed  simultane- 
eously,  as  appears  from  the  fact  that  many  of 
the  technical  terms  in  metrical  phraseology 
referred  originally  to  the  movements  of  the 
dance.  For  instance,  the  smallest  division  of 
a  verse  was  called  a  ''foot."  A  verse  of  two  feet 
was  styled  a  ''basis"  or  "stepping."  The  words 
"arsis"  and  "thesis"  originally  referred  to  the 
raising    up    and    placing    down    of   the    foot    in 

*  "We  easily  understand  that  music,  dancing,  acting  and  poetry 
were  originally  combined,  none  of  them  existing  in  the  shape  which 
characterizes  it  at  present.  Among  people  who  stood  on  a  low  level 
of  civilization,  these  arts  worked  collectively  in  shouting,  singing, 
acting,  talking  and  jumping."  K.  Mantzius,  "A  History  of  Theat- 
rical .^rt,"  Vol.  I,  p.  3. 


SAVAGE,   GREEK,  JAPANESE    DRAMAS    loi 

marching  and  dancing.  These  terms  show  how 
closely  the  two  arts  of  dancing  and  singing  were 
associated  together  in  ancient  Greece.^ 

The  mimetic  dance  appears  for  a  long  time  as 
a  survival.  "Occasionally,"  says  Haigh,^  "the 
long  descriptive  speeches  delivered  from  the  stage 
were  accompanied  with  a  mimetic  dance  on  the 
part  of  the  chorus.  The  events  described  by 
the  actor  were  represented  in  dumb  show  by  the 
choreutae.  .  .  .  Some  of  the  postures  or  figures 
in  the  tragic  dance  are  mentioned  by  the  ancient 
writers.  One  of  them  represented  a  man  in 
the  act  of  thrusting  with  the  sword;  another 
depicted  a  man  in  an  attitude  of  menace,  with 
clenched  fist.  The  rest  are  a  mere  list  of  names 
of  which  the  meaning  is  uncertain.  But  it  is 
plain  from  the  existence  of  such  lists  that  the 
art  of  tragic  dancing  was  reduced  to  a  regular 
system,  and  that  the  various  attitudes  and 
postures  were  taught  in  a  methodical  manner. 

"The  purpose,  then,  of  ancient  dancing  was 
to  represent  various  objects  and  events  by  means 
of  gestures,  postures,  and  attitudes.  In  this 
kind  of  mimicry  the  nations  of  southern  Europe 
are  particularly  skilful,   as  may  be    seen    at    the 

*  Haigh,  "The  Attic  Theatre,"  pp.  311  ff. 

*  Ibid.,  pp.  311  fF. 


I02    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

present  day.  The  art  was  carried  by  the  Greeks 
to  the  highest  perfection,  and  a  good  dancer 
was  able  to  accompany  a  song  with  such  expres- 
sive pantomime  as  to  create  a  visible  picture 
of  the  things  described.  Aristotle  defines  danc- 
ing as  an  imitation  of  'actions,  characters,  and 
passions  by  means  of  postures  and  rhythmical 
movements.'"  ^ 

Contrasting  then  the  dance  in  the  drama  of 
the  savages  and  of  the  Greeks,  we  may  say  that 
in  the  first  it  dominated  the  whole  performance, 
but  in  the  second  it  was  subordinate  to  the  more 
important    action. 

It  is  very  probable  that  in  the  early  religious 
history  of  Greece,  as  among  the  more  primitive 
of  the  savages,  all  the  people  took  active  part 
in  the  dramatic  dances  around  the  altar.-  When 
the  rites  and  the  dances  became  more  compli- 
cated, that  is,  when  they  reached  that  stage 
where  they  had  to  be  performed  in  exactly  the 
same  way  every  time  or  lose  their  efficacy,  it 
was  impossible  for  the  common  people  to  partici- 
pate in  them  to  any  great  extent  and  so  there 
came  to  be  certain  men  who  specialized  in  this 
part   of  the   service   of   the   gods.^     These    men 

1  Aristotle's  definition  is  to  be  found  in  "Poetics,"  II. 

*  Donaldson,  "Theatre  of  the  Greeks,"  p.  242. 

*  Harrison,  "Ancient  Art  and  Ritual,"  p.  126. 


SAVAGE,  GREEK,  JAPANESE    DRAMAS     103 

did  not  constitute  a  priestly  class,  as  we  under- 
stand the  word,  although  they  did  act  in  some 
degree  as  intermediaries  between  the  gods  and 
man  at  the  time  of  the  festival  and  plays. ^ 

For  a  long  time  in  the  early  history  of  the 
Greek  religious  drama  there  were  really  no  actors 
in  our  sense  of  the  word,  for  the  chorus  were  the 
only  performers.  Later  the  actors  were  evolved 
out  of  the  chorus  by  a  selection  of  those  who 
were  most  capable.  Such  reciters-in-chief,  natu- 
rally, as  elsewhere  in  the  world,  added  ^  imper- 
sonation. This  developing  histrionic  ability  later 
became  the  important  item  in  the  selection,  with 
the  result  that  the  chorus  sank  to  a  less  impor- 
tant position  than  they  had  held  before.  The 
actors  of  the  later  period  were  chosen  for  their 
acting  talent,  although  one  performer  was  some- 
times the  author  of  the  play.  The  distinction 
between  actor  and  chorus  is  brought  out  in 
the  fact  that  the  chorus  was  chosen  and  paid  by 

1  A.  E.  Haigh,  "The  Attic  Tlieatre,"  p.  i  (3d  ed.)-  "By  degrees, 
as  the  songs  and  dances  of  satyrs  adopted  fixed  forms  and  rhythms, 
their  performance  claimed  more  especial  training  and  particularly 
qualified  artists.  Thus  the  Bacchic  chorus  came  to  form  a  kind  of 
staff  of  professional  singers  and  dancers."  K.  Mantzius,  "A  History 
of  Theatrical  Art,"  Vol.  I,  p.  98.  "A  dramatic  performance  was  a 
religious  act;  therefore  those  who  took  part  in  it  were  considered  as 
the  servants  of  religion,  as  a  kind  of  priests."     K.  Mantzius,  Vol.  I, 

p.  175- 

'  The  priests  in  the  Church  of  the  Middle  Ages  did  this. 


104    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

the  choregus,^  while  the  actors  were  hired  by  the 
state.  "The  term  'hypokrites'  or  'actor'  was 
never  appHed  to  a  member  of  the  chorus.  It 
was  not  even  appUed  to  all  the  performers  upon 
the  stage,  but  only  to  such  of  them  as  took  a 
prominent  part  in  the  dialogue.  The  various 
mute  characters,  such  as  the  soldiers  and  attend- 
ants, and  also  the  subordinate  characters  who 
had  only  a  few  words  to  say,  were  not  dignified 
with  the  title  of  'actor.'  In  the  second  place 
it  should  be  remembered  that  the  Greek  actors 
invariably  wore  masks,  and  were  consequently 
able  to  appear  in  several  parts  of  the  same  per- 
formance. When,  therefore,  it  is  said  that  in 
the  early  history  of  Greek  tragedy  only  a  single 
actor  was  employed  in  each  play,  this  does  not 
imply  that  the  number  of  characters  was  lim- 
ited to  one.  All  it  implies  is,  that  only  one 
character  could  appear  at  a  time.  The  number 
of  actors  in  a  Greek  play  never  exceeded  three, 
even  in  the  latest  period."  ^ 

^  The  choregus  not  only  paid  for  the  chorus  but  also  bore  the 
expense  of  producing  the  plays.  In  the  earlier  history  he  may  have 
taken  part  in  the  plays  but  it  is  certain  that  in  the  later  time  he  was 
merely  the  active  patron.  Donaldson,  "Theatre  of  the  Greeks," 
p.  242.  In  Australia  (Ch.  VII,  p.  227)  and  on  the  Andaman  Islands 
(Ch.  VII,  p.  230  note)  there  was  a  single  individual  who  performed 
these  functions,  but  he  was  also  the  stage  manager. 

'  Haigh,  "The  Attic  Theatre,"  p.  221. 


SAVAGE,  GREEK,  JAPANESE    DRAMAS     105 

Among  the  Greeks  the  acting  profession  was 
looked  upon  as  a  noble  calling  and  the  members 
were   honored   in   every   way,^     If  we   recall   the 

'  "Even  as  early  as  the  fourth  century  B.C.  the  members  of  the 
theatrical  profession  formed  guilds  for  the  protection  of  their  personal 
rights  and  interests.  These  guilds  included  not  only  actors,  but  also 
dramatic  authors,  chorcutai,  teachers  of  the  chorus,  musicians,  even 
persons  of  whom  costumes  were  hired.  Through  their  union  these 
corporations  gradually  obtained  considerable  privileges  and  special 
favors  for  their  members.  Thus  actors  had  the  right  at  any  time  to 
go  to  foreign,  even  to  hostile  states,  to  play  comedies,  and  even  in 
times  of  war  their  persons  and  property  were  sacred  and  inviolable. 
Later,  the  guilds  also  succeeded  in  obtaining  immunity  from  military 
service  for  their  members,  a  favour  which  had  long  been  refused,  but 
which  they  thought  was  their  due  on  account  of  the  religious  char- 
acter of  their  profession.  A  decree  granting  these  privileges  was 
passed  by  the  council  of  the  Greek  federation,  and  a  copy  of  it,  en- 
graved on  stone,  was  erected  in  the  Theatre  of  Dionysus  at  ."Athens. 
Some  of  the  items  of  this  remarkable  decree,  which  is  fortunately 
preserved,  ran  as  follows:  It  has  been  resolved  by  the  Amphictyonic 
Council  that  security  of  person  and  property,  and  exemption  from 
arrest  during  peace  and  war,  be  ensured  to  the  artists  of  Dionysus  at 
Athens;  .  .  .  that  they  enjoy  that  exemption  from  military  service, 
and  that  personal  security  which  have  previously  been  granted  to 
them  by  the  whole  Greek  nation;  that  the  artists  of  Dionysus  be 
exempt  from  military  service,  in  order  that  they  may  hold  the 
appointed  celebrations  in  honour  of  the  gods  at  the  proper  seasons, 
and  be  released  from  other  business  and  consecrated  to  the  service  of 
the  gods;  that  it  be  unlawful  to  arrest  or  seize  an  artist  of  Dionysus 
in  time  of  war  or  peace,  unless  for  debt  due  to  a  city  or  a  private  per- 
son; that  if  an  artist  be  arrested  in  violation  of  these  conditions,  the 
person  who  arrests  him,  and  the  city  in  which  the  violation  of  the  law 
occurs,  be  brought  to  account  before  the  Amphictyonic  Council; 
that  the  immunity  from  service  and  personal  security  which  are 
granted  by  the  .Amphictyonic  Council  to  the  artists  of  Dionysus  at 
Athens  be  perpetual;  that  the  secretaries  cause  a  copy  of  this  decree 
to  be  engraved  on  a  stone  pillar  and  erected  in  the  temple,  and  another 
sealed  copy  of  the  same  to  be  sent  to  Athens,  in  order  to  show  the 


io6    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

examples  which  have  been  given,  we  shall  re- 
member instances  which  show  that  the  leading 
men  in  the  primitive  tribe,  clan  or  totem,  took 
part  in  the  dramatic  performances,  "In  Athens 
players  were  not  infrequently  sent  as  representa- 
tives of  the  republic  on  embassies  and  deputa- 
tions. They  were,  however,  as  a  body,  men  of 
loose  and  dissipated  character,  and  as  such  were 
regarded  with  an  unfavorable  eye  by  the  moral- 
ists and  philosophers  of  that  age.  "^  One  great 
difference  which  we  find  arising  between  the  high 
and  low  stages  of  culture  is  that  the  actors  in 
Greece  had  no  other  vocation,  while  in  many  of 
the  savage  communities  the  actors  were  not  dif- 
ferentiated as  regards  the  pursuit  of  the  struggle 
for  existence  from  their  fellowmen;  the  Greek 
actors  could  specialize  because  the  state  main- 
tained the  theatres  ^  at  its  own  expense.  The 
medicine  man,  who  often  took  the  leading  roles 
in  the  religious  dramas  of  the  savages,  was  sup- 
Athenians  that  the  Amphictyonic  Council  are  deeply  concerned  in 
the  observance  of  rehgioiis  duties  at  Athens,  and  are  ready  to  accede 
to  the  recjuests  of  the  artists  of  Dionysus,  and  to  ratify  their  present 
privileges  and  confer  such  other  benefits  upon  them  as  may  be  pos- 
sible (Haigh's  translation,  'Attic  Theatre,'  p.  253)."  Mantzius,  "A 
History  of  Theatrical  Art,"  pp.  176-8. 

'  Buckham,  "Theatre  of  the  Greeks,"  pp.  222  ff.;  Haigh,  "The 
Attic  Theatre,"  pp.  279  fF.  In  Roman  times  the  actors  were  held  in 
contempt.     Chambers,  "The  Mediaeval  Stage,  Vol.  I,  pp.  7  ff. 

*  Haigh,  "The  Attic  Theatre,"  p.  4. 


SAVAGE,   GREEK,  JAPANESE    DRAMAS     107 

ported  by  the  community  as  a  whole,  but  he 
was  the  only  one,  and  this  support  was  not 
official. 

Both  in  Greece  and  with  the  savages  the 
acting  profession  was  confined  entirely  to  men. 
In  Greece  the  reason  was  that  the  carriage  and 
voice  of  women  could  not  give  suitable  energy 
to  the  heroines  of  tragedy.^  This  was  not  the 
reason  why  women  among  the  savages  did  not 
take  part;  it  was  rather  because  women  were 
thought  unclean  and  hence  could  not  participate 
in  a  religious  observance.^  However,  they  were 
allowed  to  assist  off  the  stage  by  singing  and 
playing   while   the   men   did   the   acting. 

One  very  striking  difference  between  the  drama 
of  the  savages  and  that  of  the  highest  Greek 
period  is  the  fact  that  in  Athens  the  plays, 
written  for  the  two  Dionysiac  festivals,  which 
occurred  each  spring  and  each  winter,  were 
performed  only  once  and  then  were  thrown 
aside  to  be  given  in  the  country  villages,  while 
among  the  savages  the  performances  were  in- 
cessantly repeated.  In  Greece  the  result  of  this 
was,  that  as  long  as  the  creative  period  of  the 
drama    lasted,    the    few    days    given    up    to    the 

'  Buckham,  "Theatre  of  the  Greeks,"  p.  229. 
2  See  p.  37. 


io8    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

plays  hardly  sufficed  even  for  a  single  perform- 
ance of  the  various  new  compositions.  "Nor 
were  repetitions  necessary.  The  theatre  at 
Athens  was  of  enormous  size,  so  that  every  man 
had  a  chance  of  seeing  a  play  when  it  was  first 
bought  out.  If  it  was  successful,  and  he  wished 
to  see  it  again,  he  had  numerous  opportunities 
of  doing  so  at  the  Rural  Dionysia,  where  repro- 
ductions were  the  rule.  For  these  reasons  the 
Athenian  stage  of  the  fifth  century  was  confined 
almost  exclusively  to  original  works.  When  a 
play  had  once  been  performed  it  was  never  seen 
again,  as  far  as  Athens  was  concerned,  unless 
it  happened  to  be  of  extraordinary  merit.  It 
is  stated  on  the  authority  of  Dicaearchus  that 
the  Frogs  of  Aristophanes  'was  so  much  admired 
on  account  of  its  parabasis  that  it  was  actually 
repeated.'"  ^ 

The  origin  of  most  of  the  savage  plays  is 
lost  in  obscurity.  In  all  probability,  instead  of 
having  been  composed  by  one  man  or  one  group 
of  men,  they  came  into  being  through  a  long 
process  of  evolution.  The  Greek  poet  wrote 
his  plays  down,  but  the  savage  handed  them  on 
word  for  word  and  action  for  action  from  time 
immemorial.     It  is  in  this  one  element  that  we 

1  Haigh,  "The  Attic  Theatre,"  p.  71. 


SAVAGE,  GREEK,   JAPANESE    DRAMAS     109 

see  a  very  striking  contrast  between  the  drama  as 
a  religious  observance  in  Greece  and  among  the 
savages.  To  these  latter  the  plays  in  themselves 
were  a  supplication  to  the  spirits  for  the  certain 
definite  things  which  the  plays  set  forth.  They 
asked  for  food,  for  rain,  for  sun,  for  success  in 
battle,  through  this  medium  of  sympathetic 
magic.  It  is  very  doubtful  if  the  average  savage 
man  had  anything  like  adoration  in  mind  during 
his  religious  observances.  His  was  a  prosperity 
policy  bounded  by  material  things.  He  always 
wanted  something  definite  with  which  to  ease 
the  struggle  for  existence,  and,  except  for  the 
attempt  to  attain  it,  he  had  neither  the  time 
nor  the  inclination,  and  perhaps  not  the  mind, 
to  devote  to  these  forms  which  appear  in  a  more 
highly  developed  stage  of  society.  This  same 
statement  can  be  made  about  the  rites  of  the 
early  Greeks  which  afterwards  developed  into 
the  drama  as  we  know  it,  but  of  the  later  stage 
it  would  not  be  true.  By  the  time  of  the  great 
dramatists,  supplication  for  the  things  set  forth 
in  the  play  had  entirely  disappeared,  and  in  its 
stead  there  was  adoration  and  supplication  for 
general  well-being.  Throughout  its  entire  period 
the  Greek  theatre  never  became  merely  a  place 
of  public  entertainment;    "it  was  the  temple  of 


no    THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

the  god,  whose  altar  was  the  central  point  of  the 
semicircle  of  seats  or  steps,  from  which  some 
30,000  of  his  worshippers  gazed  upon  a  spectacle 
instituted  in  his  honor.  Our  theatrical  costumes 
are  intended  to  convey  an  idea  of  the  dresses 
actually  worn  by  the  persons  represented,  while 
those  of  the  Greeks  were  nothing  but  modifi- 
cations of  the  festal  robes  worn  in  the  Dionysiac 
processions."  ^ 

During  the  greater  part  of  the  year  the  Athe- 
nians had  other  forms  of  entertainment  besides 
the  theatre.  It  was  only  when  the  annual  fes- 
tivals of  Dionysus  came  round  that  they  were 
able  to  enjoy  the  plays.  "On  such  occasions 
their  eagerness  and  enthusiasm  were  proportion- 
ately great.  The  whole  city  kept  holiday,  and 
gave  itself  up  to  pleasure,  and  to  the  worship 
of  the  wine-god.  Business  was  abandoned; 
the  law-courts  were  closed;  distraints  for  debt 
forbidden  during  the  continuance  of  the  festival; 
even  prisoners  were  released  from  gaol,  to  enable 
them  to  share  in  the  common  festivities.  The 
theatre,  the  chief  centre  of  attraction,  was 
thronged  with  spectators,  and  the  number  of 
plays  provided  was  large  enough  to  compensate 
for     their    scarcity     at     other     periods.     Several 

'  Donaldson,  "Theatre  of  the  Greeks,"  pp.  238  ff. 


SAVAGE,  GREEK,  JAPANESE    DRAMAS     ill 

days  in  succession  were  devoted  to  the  drama. 
Tragedies  followed  one  another  without  intermis- 
sion from  morning  till  evening.  In  the  midst  of 
these  pleasures  the  religious  aspect  of  the  per- 
formance, as  a  ceremony  in  honor  of  Dionysus, 
established  in  obedience  to  the  direct  commands 
of  the  oracle,  was  not  forgotten.  The  audience 
came  with  garlands  on  their  heads,  as  to  a  sacred 
gathering.  The  statue  of  Dionysus  was  brought 
to  the  theatre  and  placed  in  front  of  the  stage, 
so  that  the  god  might  enjoy  the  spectacle  along 
with  his  worshippers.  The  chief  seats  in  the 
theatre  were  mostly  occupied  by  priests,  and  the 
central  seat  of  all  was  reserved  for  the  priest  of 
Dionysus.  The  performance  of  plays  was  pre- 
ceded by  the  sacrifice  of  a  victim  to  the  god  of 
the  festival.  The  poets  who  wrote  the  plays, 
the  choregi  who  paid  for  them,  and  the  actors 
and  singers  who  performed  them,  were  all  looked 
upon  as  ministers  of  religion,  and  their  persons 
were  sacred  and  inviolable.  The  theatre  itself 
possessed  all  the  sanctity  attaching  to  a  temple. 
Any  form  of  outrage  committed  there  was 
treated,  not  merely  as  an  offence  against  the 
ordinary  laws,  but  as  a  sacrilegious  act,  and  was 
punished  with  corresponding  severity."  ^ 
»  Haigh,  "The  Attic  Theatre,"  pp.  i  ff. 


112    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

However  true  the  statement  may  be  that  the 
Greek  drama  retained  its  rehgious  character  to 
the  end,  it  seems  almost  necessary  that  a  modifi- 
cation should  be  made  in  it,  in  order  to  show  the 
tendency  which  was  in  progress.  In  the  early 
history  the  plays  or  dramatic  rites  were  in  them- 
selves, that  is,  in  their  subject-matter,  an  act  of 
worship,  and  were  performed  when  the  people 
needed  certain  definite  things,  such  as  good 
crops,  sun,  or  rain.  Passing  now  over  the  inter- 
vening years,  we  see  in  the  plays  of  the  great 
tragedians  the  drama  itself  taking  on  a  less  re- 
ligious character.  The  plays  deal  with  human 
beings  and  their  interests,  although  the  gods 
are  not  forgotten  and  are  even  brought  on  the 
stage.  The  religious  element  which  remains,  is 
the  fact  that  they  are  performed  at  a  festival 
of  Dionysus,  but  so  are  the  games  and  races 
of  all  sorts,  and  these  in  themselves  are  hardly 
called  religious.  If  any  one  of  these  things  had 
been  performed  at  any  other  time,  there  would 
have  been  nothing  religious  about  it.  In  other 
words,  the  time  and  the  place,  but  not  the  sub- 
ject-matter (as  the  mass  in  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church)  made  them  religious.  With  the  savage 
this  is  somewhat  different,  for  among  them  we 
often   find   the  so-called   religious   plays,  that  is, 


SAVAGE,  GREEK,   JAPANESE    DRAMAS     113 

those  which  in  their  subject-matter  are  an  appeal 
to  the  gods,  being  performed  merely  for  the 
pleasure  which  they  give,  with  no  deeper  motive. 
In  the  plays  of  the  Middle  Ages  we  see  another 
very  good  example  of  this,  for  "the  element 
which  originally  constituted  its  whole  essence 
has  been  overwhelmed  and  superseded  by  the 
more  powerful  ingredients  which  have  been 
introduced  into  it  by  the  continually  diverging 
tastes  of  succeeding  generations."  ^ 

In  summarizing  the  relationship  which  exists 
between  the  drama  of  the  Greeks  and  that  of 
the  savages,  we  see  that  the  basis  for  the  com- 
parison is  a  twofold  one:  the  myth  and  the 
dance.  In  the  myth  we  find  the  context;  in 
the  dance  the  action  which  binds  these  two 
stages  together.  The  chorus  and  the  actors 
show  a  great  deal  of  similarity  in  both  the  high 
and  low  civilizations,  for  they  arose  out  of  the 
large  body  of  worshippers  who  could  not,  in 
the  nature  of  the  case,  perform  the  elaborate 
ceremonials  laid  down;  hence  this  special  group 
was  given  the  office.  However  important  these 
things  may  be  in  elucidating  this  relationship, 
the  real  emphasis  should  be  laid  on  the  fact  that 
a  strong  religious  element  prevails  in  much  of 
*  J.  W.  Donaldson,  "Theatre  of  the  Greeks,"  p.  7. 


114    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

the  savage  drama  and  throughout  the  entire 
Greek  period.  And  what  is  more,  the  purpose 
at  the  beginning,  in  each  case,  was  the  same, 
namely,  that  of  presenting,  through  the  agency 
of  sympathetic  magic,  petitions  to  those  gods 
who  held  material  well-being  in  their  hands. 
As  time  advanced  this  very  materialistic  idea 
disappeared  from  the  Greek  drama  and  a 
more  spiritual  religious  idea  took  its  place, 
but  with  the  savage  the  wants  of  this  world 
were  too  pressing  to  give  way  to  a  form 
which  could  only  appear  on  a  stage  of  higher 
culture. 

The  sun  plays  an  important  part,  we  have  seen, 
in  the  early  drama  of  the  savages  and  of  the 
Greeks.  In  Japan,  too,  according  to  some 
reports,  the  origin  of  the  drama  lies  in  a  myth 
connected  with  the  worship  of  the  sun.  A  single 
legend  is,  of  course,  insufficient  to  account  for 
the  origin  of  the  drama,  since  the  nature  of  art 
precludes  its  being  thus  invented;  yet  it  is 
interesting  in  showing  the  close  connection  of 
the  drama  with  religion.^  The  first  account 
which  we  find  of  this  legend  is  in  the  Kojiki, 
written  in  712  a.d.,  where  these  No  plays  are 
described  as  being  ancient  and  their  origin  asso- 

'  K.  Mantzius,  "History  of  Theatrical  Art,"  Vol.  I,  p.  48. 


SAVAGE,   GREEK,  JAPANESE    DRAMAS     115 

ciated  with  the  sun  goddess.     It  is  to  be  noticed 
that  the  sun  is  a  goddess  and  not  a  god,  as   in 
Greece.     "The  mythical  story  of  their  (the  *No' 
plays)  origin  is  one  of  the  well  known  tales  of 
Japan.     The    sun    goddess,    Amaterasu,    was    of- 
fended  and   retired   to   a  cave,  withdrawing  her 
luminous    beauty    from    the  world.     As    may    be 
imagined,   this  was  very  inconvenient  for  every 
one,  including  the  rest  of  the  gods,  who  in  their 
distress  assembled  on  the  dry  bed  of  the  River 
of  Heavens.     (This   is   the   Milky  Way,   and   to 
one  who  knows  the  mountain  rivers  of  Japan  it 
gives  a  very  telling  little  touch,  for  the  dry  bed 
of  a  Japanese  river  is  a  broad    curve  of  round 
white  stones.)     They  endeavoured  in  many  ways 
to  lure  the  sun  goddess  out  of  her  cave,  and  at 
last  they  invented  a  dance  and  performed  it  on 
top    of   an    inverted    empty    tub,   which   echoed 
when    the    dancer    stamped.     This    excited    her 
curiosity,  and  the  goddess  was  successfully  drawn 
out  of  her  hiding-place,  the  light  of  her  radiance 
once  more  blessed  the  earth,   and   all  was    right 
again    with    gods    and    men.     The    stamping    on 
the  hollow  tub  is  still  suggested  in  the   dancing 
of  the  *No,'  where  the  actor  raises  his  foot  and 
stamps  ^    once    or    twice    with    force    enough    to 

'  See  the  Snake  Dance  of  the  Hopi  Indians,  Ch.  III. 


ii6    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

make  the  specially  prepared  wooden  floor  of  the 
stage  echo  with  a  characteristic  sound."  ^ 

But  it  is  not  alone  in  its  origin  that  we  can 
compare  the  theatre  of  the  Japanese  with  that 
of  the  Greeks  and  the  savages.  In  Japan  "men 
and  women  are  forbidden  on  the  same  stage. 
The  men  were  formerly  not  only  given  the  out- 
ward semblance  of  women  by  every  contrivance 
which  the  costumier  and  coiffeur  could  supply, 
but  they  were  required  to  spend  their  lives  from 
childhood  in  feminine  costume  and  society  that 
their  masculine  proclivities  might  be  as  far  as 
possible  obliterated."  ^  This  does  not  mean, 
however,  that  women  did  not  act  in  some  plays, 
for  they  did,  but  never  with  members  of  the 
opposite  sex.^  The  actors  never  appeared  with- 
out masks,  which  were  very  elaborate. 

As  in  Greece,  the  profession  of  acting  was  a 
noble  one.  "With  the  sole  exception  of  the 
Emperor  himself,  every  great  personage  took 
part  in  the  performance;  a  stage  was  erected 
within   the    precincts    of   the    Palace;     costumes 

1  M.  C.  Stopes,  "Plays  of  Old  Japan  — The  'No',"  pp.  8  ff.;  F. 
Brinlcley,  "Japan,  Its  History,  Art  and  Literature,"  Vol.  Ill,  p.  23. 

2  0.  Edwards,  "Japanese  Plays  and  Playfellows,"  p.  92. 

^  In  China  the  female  parts  were  usually  taken  by  men,  but  not 
from  any  religious  reason.  In  India  the  female  parts  were  taken  by 
women.  K.  Mantzius,  "History  of  Theatrical  Art,"  Vol.  I,  pp. 
43,  81. 


SAVAGE,  GREEK,  JAPANESE    DRAMAS     117 

of    the    costliest    and    most    beautiful    materials 
were    provided,  and    a    collection    of   such    gar- 
ments   as    well    as    of   masks    and    other    acces- 
sories   for    the    'No'    was    counted    an    essential 
part    of    every   aristocratic   mansion's    furniture. 
By    degrees    the    practice   of  the    art    became    a 
profession,    but    princes,    nobles    and    high    of- 
ficials   did    not    cease    to    study    it    assiduously, 
and  were  prepared  at  any  moment   to   organize 
performances    or    to    take    part     in     them.^     It 
need  scarcely  be  said  that  various  schools  came 
into     existence.     At     first,     although     Buddhist 
priests   had   taken  such   a  large  share   in  devel- 
oping the  'No,'  Shinto  shrines  continued  to  be 
the    principal    scenes    of    its    performance,    the 
dance  being  then  a  ceremony  of  worship.     But 
from   the   days  of  the  Ashikaga   Shogun   Yoshi- 
mitsu   (i 368-1 394)   it   underwent  popularization, 
and  without  losing  its  moral  character,  received 
an  extension  of  motive,  becoming  an  adjunct  of 
congratulatory  or  commemorative  occasions  and 
even   a   pure   diversion."  - 

"The    tone    of   pessimism    that    pervades    the 

'  In  China  the  actors  occupied  a  low  rank.  The  law  forbids  the 
sons  of  actors,  barbers  and  slaves  entering  for  state  examinations. 
K.  Mantzius,  "History  of  Theatrical  Art,"  Vol.  I,  p.  46. 

'  F.  Brinkley,  "Japan,  Its  History,  Art  and  Literature,"  Vol.  Ill, 
pp.  29  fF. 


Ii8    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

drama  is  characteristic  of  all  the  'No'  composed 
during  the  military  epoch,  and  has  been  inter- 
preted as  proving  their  priestly  authorship. 
Some  learned  critics  go  so  far  as  to  assert  that 
the  laymen  generally  credited  with  having 
written  the  *No'  were  really  responsible,  not 
for  the  text,  but  only  for  the  music,  the  dances, 
and  the  staging,  the  text  being  furnished  by 
Buddhist  priests,  who  employed  it  as  a  vehicle 
for  inculcating  the  instability  of  life,  metem- 
psychosis, the  circle  of  fate,  the  chain  of  exist- 
ences, and  other  religious  doctrines.  Certainly 
the  dramas  offer  internal  evidence  of  the  truth 
of  that   theory."  ^ 

Thus  we  see  that  here,  too,  religion  is  the 
dominant  motive,  but,  as  in  Greece,  the  text  of 
the  plays  is  not  of  a  religious  character.  In 
Japan,  as  elsewhere  in  the  Orient,  those  things 
which  come  down  to  the  people  from  the  past  are 
especially  sacred,  since  they  are  connected  with 
the  ancestors;  and  as  such  they  are  to  be 
reverently  regarded.  The  religious  idea  is  also 
brought  out  in  the  fact  that  the  Japanese  plays 
are  performed  at  night,  not  because  it  is  cooler, 
but  as  a  survival  of  the  time  when  they  honored 

^  F.  Brinkley,  "Japan,  Its  History,  Art  and  Literature,"  Vol.  Ill, 
p.  48. 


SAVAGE,  GREEK,   JAPANESE    DRAMAS     119 

their   gods    in    mystic    dances    by    moonlight    or 
torchhght,  as  do  the  savages.^ 

In  two  respects  at  least  the  drama  of  the 
Japanese  differs  from  that  of  the  savage.  In 
the  first  place  "the  actors  do  not  perform  many 
evolutions  on  the  stage,  and  though  their  move- 
ments are  in  harmony  with  the  story  to  some 
extent,  they  tend  to  remain  more  or  less  in  their 
relative  positions."  ^  With  the  savage  the  entire 
interest  of  the  play  depends  upon  the  action 
rather  than  the  lines,  which  are  in  many  cases 
entirely  lacking,  while  in  these  'No'  plays  the 
lines,  which  are  usually  in  a  poetic  form,  are 
the  principal  things  which  hold  the  attention 
of  the  audience.  However,  what  movement  of 
the  body  they  do  have,  is  prescribed  and  regu- 
lated according  to  the  severest  rules.  Every  step 
and  motion,  even  of  the  toes  and  little  fingers  in 
the  dance,  is  strictly  governed  by  iron  tradition, 
and  the  secret  of  some  parts  is  only  in  the  hands 
of  a  few  masters.^  The  second  difference  is 
that  there  are  on  the  Japanese  stage  "no  stage 
properties  of  any  kind,  just  as  there  is  no  scenery 
and  the  images  of  the  places  in  which  the  action 

'  K.  Mantzius,  "History  of  Theatrical  Art,"  Vol.  I,  p.  50. 
*  M.  C.  Stopes,  "Plays  of  Old  Japan  —  The  'No',"  P-  24. 
'  M.  C.  Stopes,  he.  cit.,  p.  6. 


I20    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

lies  must  be  evolved  in  their  own  minds  by  the 
spectators,  guided  by  the  descriptive  passages  of 
the  play.  So  also  there  are  no  appliances.  If 
the  actors,  for  instance,  have  to  enter  a  boat  and 
be  rowed  across  a  stream,  they  will  perhaps 
merely  step  over  a  bamboo  pole.  If  one  of  the 
characters  has  to  ladle  up  water  and  offer  it  to 
a  fainting  warrior,  the  whole  action  is  accom- 
plished with  a  fan."  ^  We  know  that  both  on 
the  Greek  stage  and  on  that  of  the  savage  the 
use  of  properties  of  all  kinds  was  thought  indis- 
pensable in  creating  the  illusion.  The  Greeks 
even  went  so  far  as  to  introduce  horses  and 
chariots  on  the  stage. ^ 

The  Japanese  do  not  lack  the  chorus,  but  the 
part  they  play  is  of  minor  consideration.  They 
are  seated  at  the  back  of  the  stage,  but  do  not 
take  part  in  the  dancing.  They  do,  however, 
accompany  the  dance  with  flute  and  drum  and 
from  time  to  time  intone  the  words  of  the  drama.' 
We  know  how  prominent  a  part  the  chorus 
played  in  the  Greek  drama,  but  there  the 
singing  and  dancing  were  done  by  one  body.  In 
this  respect  the  chorus  of  the  Japanese  resembles 

'  M.  C.  Stopes,  "Plays  of  Old  Japan  —  The  'No',"  p.  i6. 

*  Haigh,  "The  Attic  Theatre,"  p.  200. 

'  Brinkley,  "Japan,  Its  History,  Art  and  Literature,"  p.  28. 


SAVAGE,  GREEK,  JAPANESE   DRAMAS     121 

many  of  the  savage  choruses  of  the  women  who 
are  seated  off  the  stage  and  whose  function  is 
beating  time  and  singing.  All  three  dramas 
show  a  resemblance  in  the  use  of  the  musical 
instruments.  The  Greeks  had  the  flute  and 
sometimes  the  lyre;  ^  the  savages  usually  had 
the  drum,  or  modifications  of  it;^  while  the 
Japanese   had    both. 

From  this  discussion  there  is  one  conclusion 
which  stands  out  above  all  others,  and  that  is 
that  the  dramas  of  the  Greeks  and  the  Japanese, 
although  very  highly  developed  in  their  liter- 
ature and  art,  must  have  resembled  in  their 
earlier  stages  the  dramatic  rites  and  ceremonies 
of  those  savage  peoples  with  whom  this  book,  as 
a  study  of  earlier  stages  of  social  evolution,  is 
dealing.  It  is  true  that  there  must  have  been 
many  intermediate  steps,  of  which  we  have  no 
record,  between  the  crude  sympathetic  magic 
ceremonies  of  a  people  such  as  the  Australians, 
and  the  plays  of  Sophocles,  or  the  present  *No' 
drama.  But  despite  this  absence  of  a  full  series 
of  transitional  forms,  but  little  doubt  should 
remain  that  there  obtains,  in  the  growth  of  the 
drama,    the    same    development    of   form    out    of 

'  Haigh,  "The  Attic  Theatre,"  p.  320. 

*  Grosse,  "The  Beginnings  of  Art,"  pp.  278  ff. 


122    THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

form,  in  a  connected  series,  which  characterizes 
the  process  of  evolution  elsewhere  in  nature  and 
in  society.  Grosse  says,  "Strange  and  inartistic 
as  the  primitive  forms  of  art  sometimes  appear 
at  the  first  sight,  as  soon  as  we  examine  them 
more  closely  we  find  that  they  are  formed  ac- 
cording to  the  same  laws  as  govern  the  highest 
creations  of  art."  ^ 

^  Grosse,  "The  Beginnings  of  Art,"  p.  307. 


INITIATION  CEREMONIES 


CHAPTER  V 
INITIATION   CEREMONIES 

AMONG  most  savage  peoples  when  a 
boy  reaches  the  age  of  puberty  the 
time  has  arrived  for  him  to  leave  the 
company  of  women,  with  whom  he  has  been 
living,  and  join  himself  to  the  men.  However, 
before  he  can  do  this,  he  must  be  taught  many 
things,  among  them  the  secrets  and  moral  code 
of  the  tribe  or  totem  into  which  he  is  to  enter 
as  a  full-fledged  member.  This  education  is 
accomplished  largely  through  more  or  less  elab- 
orate ceremonies,  many  of  which  are  of  a  dra- 
matic nature,  especially  in  those  communities 
where  the  totem  holds  a  prominent  place.  As 
a  rule,  the  rite  of  circumcision  is  performed, 
thus  making  the  boy,  as  they  think,  a  more  tit 
member  of  society.  This  time  is  the  most  im- 
portant in  the  life  of  a  youth,  for  announce- 
ment is  made  to  the  world  that  he  is  no  longer 
a  child,  but  has  reached  that  age  when  he  is 
fit  to  take  up  a  man's  estate  and  perform  the 
functions  for  which   he  was   intended.     In  Aus- 


126    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

tralia  these  puberty  initiatory  rites  occupy  much 
of  the  time  of  the  people  which  is  not  spent  in 
the  actual  getting  of  food.  The  ceremonies  begin 
when  the  boy  is  between  ten  and  twelve  years 
old  and  are  not  concluded  until  he  has  reached 
the  age  of  twenty-five  or  thirty.^  In  many 
other  parts  of  the  world,  however,  the  rites  are 
of  shorter  duration,  sometimes  occupying  only  a 
few  days. 

A  close  analogy  exists  between  these  cere- 
monies and  the  morality  plays  of  the  Middle 
Ages.  In  the  latter  the  actors  impersonated 
the  various  virtues  and  vices.  In  nearly  all 
cases  good  triumphed  over  evil;  in  others  the 
Devil  was  the  victor.  The  idea  was  to  show  the 
people  what  would  happen  to  them  if  they  gave 
way  to  their  passions,  and  what  would  be  the 
reward  if  virtue  prevailed.  So  it  was  that  the 
moral  teachers  of  both  the  civilized  man  and 
the  savage  resorted  to  the  stage  in  order  to 
keep  their  followers  in  the  narrow  path. 

The  Greeks  early  recognized  the  educative 
effect  of  the  theatre  not  only  for  the  youth,  but 
also  for  the  older  people.  "In  Lucian's  Dialogue, 
Solon   tells  Anacharsis   that   the  Athenians   edu- 

*  Spencer  and  Gillen,  "Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia," 
p.  213. 


INITIATION  CEREMONIES  127 

cate  their  sons  by  taking  them  to  tragedies  and 
comedies  and  showing  them  examples  of  virtue 
and  vice,  so  as  to  teach  them  what  to  avoid."  ^ 
On  the  other  hand  Aristotle  does  not  feel  that 
the  theatre  should  be  used  as  a  school,^  for  its 
function  is  religious.  Books  were  few  and  their 
use  was  confined  to  a  very  limited  class  of  people. 
The  result  was  that  the  ordinary  Athenian  de- 
pended almost  entirely  for  his  literary  pleasures 
upon  public  performances  and  recitations  of  poet- 
ical  compositions,^ 

Up  to  the  age  of  puberty  the  Australian  youth 
has  had  practically  no  systematic  instruction, 
and  so  his  schooling  really  begins  at  the  age 
when  most  civilized  children  are  supposed  to 
be  well  grounded  in  the  so-called  fundamentals. 
"The  knowledge  is  conveyed  to  him  in  a  most 
effective  manner  by  means  of  elaborate  cere- 
monies of  a  dramatic  nature,  performed  by 
members  of  the  different  totems  and  intended 
to  picture  events  in  the  life  of  the  mythic 
ancestral  individuals  who  lived  in  the  ancient 
time  —  half-animal  creations  whose  descendants 
are    the    present    members    of   the    tribe.     Thus, 

'   Haigli,  "The  Attic  Theatre,"  p.  326. 

*  Aristotle,  "  Poetics,"  VT,  2. 

*  Haigh,  "The  Attic  Theatre,"  p.  4. 


128    THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

performances  which  seem  on  the  outside  merely 
imitations  of  the  actions  of  different  animals  are 
really  part  of  the  instruction  of  the  novice  in 
the  sacred  lore  connected  with  the  totems  and 
the  ancestors  of  the  various  clans,"  ^ 

Another  phase  of  these  ceremonies  is  to  teach 
the  novice  in  a  most  vivid  fashion  those  things 
which  in  the  future  he  must  avoid,  that  is, 
introduce  him  to  the  mores  of  the  tribe.  For 
this  reason  many  of  the  rites  are  almost  equiva- 
lent to  a  morality  play.  At  first  sight  some  of 
the  performances  seem  to  be  very  immoral,  being 
presented  on  the  principle  of  similia  similibus 
curantur.  Those  men  who  guard  the  boys  talk 
to  each  other  in  an  inverted  language,  so  that 
the  real  meaning  is  just  the  opposite  of  what 
they    say.     At    the    end    of   every    sentence    the 

'  H.  Webster,  "Primitive  Secret  Societies,"  pp.  140-1. 

"The  art  of  the  Australian  is  not  constructive,  not  architectonic, 
not  graphic,  but  dramatic  and  mimetic.  Every  writer  who  has  direct 
knowledgeof  the  Australian  corroborees,  whether  occasional  and  secu- 
lar, or  state  and  ceremonial,  testifies  to  the  remarkable  interest  shown 
in  dramatic  representation.  The  reproduction  by  dances  of  the  move- 
ments and  behavior  of  the  animals  of  the  chase  is  startling.  Great 
humor  is  also  shown  in  adopting  and  reproducing  recent  events  and 
personal  traits.  These  performances  are  attended  with  high  emo- 
tional attacks;  and  all  the  accompaniments  of  decoration,  song,  music, 
spectators'  shouts,  etc.,  are  designed  to  revive  the  feelings  appropriate 
to  the  immediate  conflicting  situations  which  mean  so  much  to  the 
savage."  (John  Dewey,  "1  he  Psychological  Review,"  9:  pp.  217- 
230;   Thomas,  "Source  Book  for  Social  Origins,"  pp.  182-3.) 


INITIATION  CEREMONIES  129 

speaker  adds  "Yah,"  which  negatives  all  that 
has  been  said  and  done.  Indeed  the  use  of  the 
word  "Yah"  runs  through  the  whole  conversa- 
tion carried  on  during  the  ceremonies.'  "The 
lads  are  told  that  this  is  done  in  order  that  they 
may  learn  to  speak  the  truth.  V^arious  offences 
against  morality  are  exhibited  and  the  guardians 
warn  the  novices  of  their  death  or  of  violence, 
should  they  attempt  to  repeat  the  actions  which 
they  have  just  witnessed.  There  are  many  ob- 
scene gestures  for  the  purpose  of  shocking  the 
young  fellows;  and  if  the  latter  show  the  least 
sign  of  mirth  or  frivolity,  they  are  hit  on  the 
head  by  an  old  man  who  is  appointed  to  watch 
them."  ^  In  one  ceremony  four  or  five  of  the 
old  men  sit  on  the  ground  making  mud  pies. 
The  guardian  of  the  boys  says  to  them,  "Look 
at  that!  Look  at  those  old  men,  when  you  get 
back  to  the  camp,  go  and  do  like  that,  and  play 
with    little   children  —  Yah!"'' 

Among  practically  all  savage  peoples  when 
any  sacred  rites  are  to  take  place  the  women  are 
not  only  excluded  from  the  more  prominent  of 
them,  but  they  are  also  kept  in  ignorance  of 
what  occurs.     If  by  any  chance  the  women  should 

>  A.  W.  Howitt,  "Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,"  p.  533. 
'  Webster,  loc  cit.,  pp.  49  ff.  '  Howitt,  loc.  cit.,  p.  534. 


I30    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

appear  at  the  place  where  the  ceremony  is 
being  held,  they  would  probably  be  killed.^  They 
are  told  that  the  initiation  is  the  work  of  the 
tribal  gods,  "Bull-roarers"^  are  swung  in  the 
bushes,  and  the  ground  is  beaten  by  the  men 
with  pieces  of  bark.  The  women  are  deceived 
into  believing  that  the  noise  is  caused  by  the 
trampling  of  an  evil  spirit  who  has  come  to 
remove  the  boys.  The  sound  of  the  bull-roarer 
is  his  voice. ^  But  not  alone  to  the  savage  people 
does  the  bull-roarer  belong.  It  was  used  by 
the  ancient  Greeks  in  their  initiation  ceremonies 
to  simulate  the  voice  of  the  thunder-god  — 
Rhombos."*  This  latter  idea  is  prevalent  in  the 
central  part  of  Australia.  Miss  Harrison  says: 
"To  us  a  thunderstorm  is  mainly  a  thing  of 
terror,  a  thing  to  be  avoided,  a  thing  'not  to 
go  out  in.'  We  get  abundant  and  superabun- 
dant rain  without  thunderstorms.  But  an  occa- 
sional drought  broken  up  by  thunderstorms 
helps   us  to  realize  what  thunder  and  the  bull- 

'  A.  W.  Howitt,  "Native  Tribes  of  Southeast  Australia,"  p.  637. 

^  Bull-roarer  =  a  piece  of  wood  with  a  string  looped  around  one 
end  which,  when  swung,  gives  a  humming  sound. 

'  Spencer  and  Gillen,  "Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,"  pp. 
214-17,  219,  222,  223-6,  227,  260,  372-3;  Webster,  "Primitive  Secret 
Societies,"  p.  99. 

*  Harrison,  "Themis,"  p.  61;  Lang,  "Custom  and  Myth,"  pp.  36, 


INITIATION  CEREMONIES  131 

roarer,  which  makes  thunder,  mean  to  the 
Central  Australian,  where  a  'thunderstorm 
causes  the  desert  to  blossom  as  the  rose  truly  as 
if  by  magic'  The  thunder,  as  the  headman 
said,  'caused  the  rain  to  fall  and  everything  to 
grow  up  new.'  Now  we  realize  its  virtue  in 
the  adolescence  rite;  it  gives  the  boys  'more 
power,'  they  not  only  grow  up,  but  grow  up  new. 
The  bull-roarer  is  as  it  were  the  rite  incarnate. 
The  bull-roarer  is  the  vehicle  not  of  a  god  or  even 
of  a  spirit,  but  of  unformulated  uncanny  force, 
what  Mr.  Lang  calls   a  'powerful  Awful.'"  ^ 

In  Australia  when  the  boy  reaches  the  age 
of  puberty  the  elders  of  the  tribe  undertake 
his  initiation.  He  is  conducted  to  a  spot  near 
the  main  camp,  where  the  members  of  the  group 
are  gathered.  Here  the  men  throw  him  up  in 
the  air  several  times,  while  the  women  dance 
around  singing.  Then  the  boy's  chest  and  back 
are  painted  with  various  totemic  designs.  Mean- 
while he  is  told  that  the  ceremony  just  passed 
through  will  promote  his  growth  to  manhood  and 
that  henceforth  he  must  not  play  with  the  women 
or  girls,  but  must  come  to  live  with  the  men  in 
their  camp.  He  is  further  mstructed  that  under 
no  circumstances  must  surprise  or  fear  be  mani- 

*  Harrison,  "Themis,"  p.  65. 


132    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

fested,  nor  by  word  or  deed  show  that  he  is 
conscious  of  what  is  going  on,  yet  that  he 
must  narrowly  observe  everything,  and  remember 
all  he  sees  and  hears. ^  He  is  also  told  that  he 
must  never  mention  to  a  woman  what  he  is 
about  to  see,  for  if  he  does,  the  ancestral  spirits 
will  be  angry  with  him. 

These  initiation  ceremonies  of  the  Australians 
are  strictly  religious  in  character,  and  although 
this  element  seems  at  times  to  be  subservient 
to  the  dramatic,  nevertheless  it  is  present  and 
is  the  controlling  factor.  The  boys  are  not  only 
by  this  graphic  art  taught  the  history  of  the 
past,  but  they  are  also  instructed  in  the  methods 
to  be  used  in  order  to  obtain  a  goodly  food 
supply.  When  it  is  remembered  that  these 
people  feel  that  unless  a  ceremony  is  performed 
exactly  in  the  way  prescribed  the  efficacy  is  lost, 
it  will  be  clear  why  so  much  stress  is  laid  on 
teaching  them  to  the  boys. 

Briefly  put,  then,  the  purpose  of  these  cere- 
monies is  to  make  the  youths  worthy  members 
of  the  community,  according  to  their  standards. 
"Certain  principles  are  impressed  upon  them 
for  their  guidance  during  life  —  for  instance, 
to  listen  and  obey  the  old  men;    generously  to 

*  A.  W.  Howitt,  "Native  Tribes  of  Southeast  Australia,"  p.  592. 


INITIATION  CEREMONIES  133 

share  the  fruits  of  the  chase  with  others,  espe- 
cially with  their  kindred;  not  to  interfere  with 
the  women  of  the  tribe,  particularly  those  who 
are  related  to  them,  nor  to  injure  their  kindred 
(in  its  widest  sense)  by  means  of  evil  magic. 
Before  the  novice  is  permitted  to  take  his  place 
in  the  community,  marry  and  join  in  its  councils, 
he  must  possess  those  qualifications  which  will 
enable  him  to  act  for  the  common  welfare."  ^ 

As  has  been  said,  one  object  of  these  cere- 
monies is  to  scare  the  boys  into  obedience  to 
the  elder  men  of  the  tribe.  In  Australia  this 
is  partially  done  by  the  bull-roarers,  which  when 
heard  in  the  distance  are  said  to  be  the  voice  of 
the  gods  telling  the  boys  to  obey.  The  Fijian 
elders,  who  lack  these  bull-roarers,  have  adopted 
another  means.  The  boys  are  led  by  the  old 
men  into  the  open  space  before  the  temple, 
where  a  horrible  spectacle  meets  their  eyes. 
"Near  the  outer  entrance,  with  his  back  to  the 
Temple,  sits  the  chief  priest,  regarding  them 
with  a  fixed  stare;  and  between  him  and  them 
lie  a  row  of  dead  men,  covered  with  blood,  their 
bodies  apparently  cut  open  and  their  entrails 
protruding.     The  Vere  ^  steps  over  them  one  by 

'  A.  W.  Howitt,  "  Native  Tribes  of  Southeast  Australia,"  p.  638. 
*  Fere  =  old  man. 


134    THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

one  and  the  awestruck  youths  follow  him  until 
they  stand  in  a  row  before  the  high  priest,  their 
'souls  drying  up'  under  his  strong  glare.  Sud- 
denly he  blurts  out  a  great  yell,  whereupon  the 
dead  men  start  to  their  feet,  and  run  down  to 
the  river  to  cleanse  themselves  from  the  blood 
and    filth    with    which    they    are    besmeared."  ^ 

Among  the  Bushmen  so  important  are  the 
dances  thought  to  be  that  when  a  boy  is  initiated 
into  any  of  the  secret  groups  he  receives  elabo- 
rate instruction  in  them.  There  are  numerous 
examples  of  where  a  person  has  been  asked 
certain  questions  about  tribal  matters  and  he 
has  answered,  "I  do  not  dance  that  dance," 
meaning  that  he  had  not  been  initiated  into 
those  particular  secrets  of  the  tribe  or  group. ^ 

In  commenting  on  these  initiation  ceremonies, 
Mr.  W.  I.  Thomas  says:  Races  that  are  low  in 
the  scale  of  civilization  make,  recite,  and  act 
poems  and  dramas.  "It  is  perhaps  true  that 
there  is  not  a  lower  race  in  existence  to-day  than 
the  Central  Australians  and  yet  among  them  Mr. 
Baldwin  Spencer  and  Mr.  F.  J.  Gillen  were 
present  on  the  occasion  of  the  gatherings  in 
connection  with  the  initiation  of  the  young  men, 

^  Webster,  loc.  cit.,  p.  64. 

*  Lang,  "  Myth,  Ritual,  and  Religion,"  Vol.  I,  p.  175;  Vol.  II,  p.  12. 


INITIATION  CEREMONIES  135 

commencing  in  the  middle  of  September  and 
lasting  until  the  middle  of  the  following  Jan- 
uary, during  which  time  there  was  a  constant 
succession  of  essentially  dramatic  ceremonies, 
not  a  day  passing  without  one,  while  there  were 
sometimes  as  many  as  five  or  six  during  the 
twenty-four  hours.  These  ceremonies  or  quabara 
related  to  the  wanderings  of  the  Alcheringa, 
or  mythical  ancestors  of  the  tribe;  each  ceremony 
was  the  property  of  some  individual  who  either 
made  it  himself  or  inherited  it  from  some  one 
—  generally  a  father  or  elder  brother — and  it 
could  be  acted  only  by  his  permission.  A  single 
instance  will  suffice  to  illustrate  the  crude  but 
dramatic  character  of  these  performances:  the 
men  were  supposed  to  represent  two  eagle- 
hawks  quarreling  over  a  piece  of  flesh,  which 
was  represented  by  the  downy  mass  in  one  man's 
mouth.  At  first  they  remained  squatting  on 
their  shields,  moving  their  arms  up  and  down; 
and  still  continuing  this  action,  which  was 
supposed  to  represent  the  flapping  of  wings, 
they  jumped  off^  the  shields,  and  with  their 
bodies  bent  up  and  arms  extended  and  flapping, 
began  circhng  around  each  other  as  if  each  were 
afraid  of  coming  to  close  quarters.  They  then 
stopped    and    moved    a    step   or   two    at    a   time, 


136    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

first  to  one  side  and  then  to  the  other,  until 
finally  they  came  to  close  quarters  and  began 
fighting  with  their  heads  for  the  possession  of 
the  piece  of  meat.  .  .  .  The  attacking  man  at 
length  seized  with  his  teeth  the  piece  of  meat 
and  wrenched  it  out  of  the  other  man's  mouth. 
The  acting  in  this  ceremony  was  especially  good, 
the  actions  and  movements  of  the  birds  being 
admirably  presented,  and  the  whole  scene  with 
the  decorated  men  in  front  and  the  group  of 
interested  natives  in  the  background  was  by  no 
means  devoid  of  picturesqueness."  ^ 

The  wolf  ritual  among  the  Nootka  Indians 
of  North  America  was  a  dramatic  performance 
representing  the  capture  of  the  novices  by  the 
wolves,  their  recapture  from  the  wolves,  the  exor- 
cism of  the  wolf  spirits  that  they  might  have 
brought  back  with  them,  and  the  performance 
of  dances  that  the  novices  were  supposed  to 
have  been  taught  by  the  wolves.-  ''The  Nootka 
tradition  runs  that  this  secret  society  was  insti- 
tuted by  wolves  who  took  away  a  chief's  son 
and    tried    to    kill    him,    but,    failing    to    do    so, 

^  W.  I.  Thomas,  "Decennial  Publications  of  the  University  of 
Chicago,"  First  Series  4:  pp.  241-56;  Thomas,  "Source  Book  for 
Social  Origins,"  pp.  290-91;  Spencer  and  (lillen,  "Native  Tribes  of 
Central  Australia,"  pp.  296-7. 

*  Sapir,  "Some  Aspects  of  the  Nootka  Language  and  Culture," 
American  Anthropologist,  January-March,  191 1. 


INITIATION  CEREMONIES  137 

became  his  friends,  taught  him  the  rites  of  the 
society  and  ordered  him  to  teach  them  to  his 
friends  on  his  return  home.  They  then  carried 
the  young  man  back  to  his  village.  They  also 
begged  that  whenever  he  moved  from  one  place 
to  another  he  would  kindly  leave  behind  him 
some  red  cedar-bark  to  be  used  by  them  in  their 
own  ceremonies;  and  to  this  custom  the  Nootka 
tribes  still  adhere.  Every  new  member  of  the 
society  must  be  initiated  by  the  wolves.  At 
night  a  pack  of  wolves,  impersonated  by  Indians 
dressed  in  wolf-skins  and  wearing  wolf-masks, 
make  their  appearance,  seize  the  novice,  and 
carry  him  into  the  w^oods.  When  the  wolves 
are  heard  outside  the  village,  coming  to  fetch 
away  the  novice,  all  the  members  of  the  society 
blacken  their  faces  and  sing.  Next  day  the 
wolves  bring  back  the  novice  dead,  and  the  mem- 
bers of  the  society  have  to  revive  him.  The 
wolves  are  supposed  to  have  put  a  magic  stone 
into  his  body,  which  must  be  removed  before  he 
can  come  to  life.  Till  this  is  done  the  pretended 
corpse  is  left  lying  outside  the  house.  Two  wizards 
go  and  remove  the  stone,  which  appears  to  be 
quartz,  and  then  the  novice  is  resuscitated."  ^ 

'  Fr.  Boas,  Sixth  Report  on  Northwestern  Tribes  of  Canada,  p.  47; 
Frazer,  "GoldenBough,"  Vol.  Ill,  1900,  pp.  434-5;  "Narratives  of 
the  Adventures  and  Sufferings  of  John  N.  Jewett,"  p.  119. 


138    THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

In  the  first  part  of  this  legend  is  to  be  noticed 
a  fact  which  we  have  tried  to  bring  out  several 
times  before,  and  that  is,  in  so  many  of  the 
savage  legends  connected  with  the  ceremonies 
a  human  being  by  some  means  or  other  reaches 
the  place  either  in  this  or  the  future  world 
where  he  is  taught  the  way  in  which  the  cere- 
mony should  be  performed.  He  then  returns 
and  instructs  his  fellowmen,  who  in  their  turn 
incorporate  into  their  drama  the  story  of  his 
wanderings. 

There  are  also  in  this  legend  embodied  other 
ideas  common  among  many  tribes.  They  believe 
that  when  a  youth  passes  from  boyhood  to  man- 
hood he  enters  an  entirely  different  state  • —  a 
rebirth.  In  order  to  accomplish  this  he  is  sup- 
posed either  to  die  a  natural  death,  or  be  killed, 
and  when  he  is  revived,  he  is  thought  incapable 
of  remembering  anything  that  happened  before.^ 
"Such  rites  become  intelligible  if  one  supposes 
that  their  substance  consists  in  extracting  the 
youth's  soul  in  order  to  transform  it  to  his  totem. 
For  the  extraction  of  his  soul  would  naturally 
be  supposed  to  kill  the  youth  or  at  least  to  throw 
him    into    a  deathlike   trance,  which    the   savage 

'  A  similar  ceremony  also  occurs  among  the  natives  on  the  Congo 
River.     Keane,  "Man  Past  and  Present,"  p.  109. 


INITIATION  CEREMONIES  139 

hardly  distinguishes  from  death.  His  recovery 
would  then  be  attributed  either  to  the  gradual 
recovery  of  his  system  from  the  violent  shock 
which  it  had  received,  or,  more  probably,  to  the 
infusion  into  him  of  fresh  life  drawn  from  the 
totem.  Thus  the  essence  of  these  initiatory 
rites,  so  far  as  they  consist  in  a  simulation  of 
death  and  resurrection,  would  be  an  exchange 
of  life  or  souls  between  the  man  and  his 
totem."  ^ 

In  New  South  Wales  the  night  previous  to  the 
initiation  ceremony  is  devoted  to  a  corroboree. 
One  member  of  the  tribe  will  mimic  the  actions 
of  an  emu  which  some  of  the  others  pretend  to 
hunt;  another  will  endeavor  to  imitate  a  dingo, 
and  all  appear  to  thoroughly  enjoy  the  rude 
dramatic  attempt,^  After  the  boys  have  been 
taken  into  the  bush  for  initiation,  there  are  many 
pantomimic  performances.  Sometimes  the  ani- 
mal imitated  is  the  kangaroo  —  the  men  hopping 
along  one  after  the  other.  The  iguana  is  repre- 
sented by  men  crawling  along  on  the  ground, 
moving  their  hands  and  feet  like  that  animal. 
Various  other  animals  and  birds  are  mimicked.' 

'  Frazer,  "Golden  Bough,"  \'ol.  Ill,  1900,  p.  422. 
^  Cameron,  "Tribes  of  New  South  Wales,"  14  J.  A.  I.,  p.  358. 
'  R.  H.  Matthews,  "  Kecparra  Ceremony  of  Initiation,"  26  J.  A. 
I.,  p.  331. 


I40    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

The  purpose  here  is  the  same  as  among  the 
AustraHans,  of  dramatically  setting  forth  the  myths 
and  legends  which  concern  the  totemic  ancestral 
animals  of  the  past. 

"In  connection  with  the  initiation  into  the 
bear  totem  in  northwestern  America  there  was 
held  quite  a  theatrical  performance.  A  lance 
was  prepared  which  had  a  very  sharp  point 
so  arranged  that  the  slightest  pressure  on  its 
tip  would  cause  the  steel  to  gradually  sink  into 
the  shaft.  In  sight  of  the  multitude  crowding 
the  lodge,  this  lance  was  pressed  in  the  bare 
chest  of  the  candidate  and  apparently  sunk  in 
his  body  to  the  shaft,  when  he  would  tumble 
down  simulating  death.  At  the  same  time  a 
quantity  of  blood,  previously  kept  in  the  mouth, 
would  issue  from  the  would-be  corpse,  making 
it  quite  clear  to  the  uninitiated  gazers-on  that 
the  terrible  knife  had  had  its  effect,  when  lo! 
upon  one  of  the  actors  striking  up  one  of  the 
chants  specially  made  for  the  circumstance  and 
richly  paid  for,  the  candidate  would  gradually 
rise  up  a  new  man."  ^  The  Dakota  Indians 
practice  a  rite  very  similar  to  this  in  which  the 

'  A.  G.  Morice,  in  Transactions  of  the  Canadian  Institute,  Vol. 
IV  (1892-3),  pp.  203-6;  Frazer,  "Golden  Bough,"  1900,  Vol.  Ill, 
pp.  438-9. 


INITIATION  CEREMONIES  141 

candidate  is  revived  after  having  been  knocked 
down  by  a  blow.' 

The  Mandans  of  the  Plains  held  an  annual 
religious  ceremony  which  had  several  distinct 
objects.  "One  was  the  dancing  of  the  bull- 
dance,  a  magical  practice,  by  the  strict  perform- 
ance of  which  a  supply  of  buffalo  would  be  secured 
for  the  coming  season.  In  the  bull-dance,  the 
performers  were  covered  with  the  skins  of  different 
animals,  the  heads  of  the  latter  serving  as  masks. 
The  dancers  impersonated  what  were  doubtless 
the  totemic  animals  of  their  clans  —  bears,  swans, 
wolves  —  and  in  their  performances  imitated  the 
actions  and  habits  of  the  animals  and  chanted 
peculiar  and  appropriate  songs  known  to  the 
performers  alone.  Such  totemic  representations, 
like  the  Arunta  ^uabara  were  the  strictly  guarded 
property  of  those  who  by  initiation  were  entitled 
to  give  them.  A  second  object  was  for  'the 
purpose  of  conducting  all  the  young  men  of  the 
tribe,  as  they  annually  arrive  at  the  age  of  man- 
hood, through  an  ordeal  of  privation  and  torture, 
which,  while  it  is  supposed  to  harden  the  muscles 
and  prepare  them  for  extreme  endurance,  enables 

*  G.  H.  Pond,  "Dakota  Superstitions,"  Collections  of  the  Min- 
nesota Historical  Society  for  1867,  pp.  35,  37-40;  Fraztr,  "Golden 
Bough,"  1900,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  433. 


142    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

the  chiefs  who  are  spectators  to  the  scene,  to 
decide  upon  their  comparative  bodily  strength 
and  abihty  to  endure  the  extreme  privations  and 
sufferings  that  often  fall  to  the  lot  of  Indian 
warriors;  and  that  they  may  decide  who  is  the 
most  hardy  and  best  able  to  lead  a  war-party  in 
case  of  extreme  exigency.'"  ^  Before  being  finally 
admitted,  the  young  men  are  submitted  to  the  most 
terrible  tortures  in  order  to  try  their  courage.- 

In  Australia  for  the  most  elaborate  of  the 
initiation  ceremonies  there  is  a  large  piece  of 
ground  which  is  cleared  and  then  laid  out  with 
banks  of  dirt  and  brakes  of  bushes.  The  follow- 
ing is  the  plan  for  the  stage  setting  of  one  of 
these  Initiatory  Dramas. 


CldlA 


A.    Place  where  the  men  sit. 

C.  Place  where  the  women  dance. 

D.  Place  where  the  operation  is  carried  out. 

'  S.  Catlin,  "Letters  and  Notes  on  the  Manners,  Customs,  and 
Condition  of  the  North  American  Indians,"  Vol.  I,  p.  157. 
*  Webster,  loc.  cit.,  pp.  183-5. 


INITIATION  CEREMONIES  143 

d.  Brake  made  of  bushes  in  front  of  which  the 

men  sit. 

e.  Brake  behind  which  the  novice  sits. 

F.    Banks  of  dirt  with  pathway  between. 

After  being  painted,  the  boy  is  made  to  crouch 
behind  his  brake  and  told  not  to  cast  his  eyes 
upon  the  actors  unless  so  instructed.  All  the 
first  night  the  dancing  and  singing  is  continued 
with  great  vigor.  In  the  morning  the  men  sing 
a  fire  song  while  the  boy's  future  mother-in-law 
presents  him  with  a  burning  stick,  and  while 
so  doing,  admonishes  him  always  to  hold  fast  to 
his  own  fire  —  in  other  words,  not  to  interfere 
with  women  assigned  to  other  men.  The  boy 
is  then  taken  out  into  the  bushes,  where  he  is 
left  for  three  days  to  reflect  upon  the  fact  that 
he  is  to  enter  the  state  of  manhood. 

On  the  night  of  the  fourth  day  two  men  go 
to  the  brake  of  the  boy,  to  which  he  has  pre- 
viously been  brought,  tie  a  bandage  over  his 
eyes  and  bring  him  out  between  the  banks  of 
dirt,  where  a  ceremony  is  to  take  place.  Here 
he  is  placed  lying  face  downward  until  the  two 
men  who  are  going  to  perform  the  ceremony  are 
in  position  between  the  banks.  "When  the  boy 
is  told  by  the  old  man  who  is  instructing  him,  to 


144    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

look,  he  sees  lying  in  front  of  him  and  on  his 
side  a  man  who,  his  teacher  tells  him,  represents 
a  wild  dog.  At  the  other  end  of  the  stage  a 
decorated  man  stands  with  legs  wide  apart 
holding  up  twigs  of  eucalyptus  in  each  hand, 
and  having  his  head  ornamented  with  a  small 
Waninga,  which  is  a  sacred  object  emblematic 
of  some  totem  animal,  in  this  particular  case  a 
kangaroo.  This  man  moves  his  head  from  side 
to  side  as  if  looking  for  something  and  every 
now  and  then  uttering  a  sound  similar  to  that 
made  by  a  kangaroo,  which  animal  he  is  supposed 
to  represent.  Suddenly  the  dog  looks  up,  sees 
the  kangaroo,  begins  barking  and  running  on 
all  fours,  passing  between  the  man's  legs  and 
lying  down  behind  the  man,  who  keeps  watch- 
ing him  over  his  shoulder.  Then  the  dog  runs 
again  between  the  kangaroo-man's  legs,  but  this 
time  he  is  caught  and  well  shaken  and  a  pre- 
tence is  made  of  dashing  his  head  against  the 
ground,  whereupon  he  howls  as  if  in  pain.  These 
movements  are  repeated  several  times,  and  finally 
the  dog  is  supposed  to  be  killed  by  the  kangaroo. 
The  boy  is  told  by  the  old  man  that  the  scene 
represents  an  incident  which  took  place  in  past 
ages  when  a  kangaroo-man  attacked  a  wild 
dog-man    and    killed    the    latter.     This    is    the 


INITIATION  CEREMONIES  145 

first  of  the  totemic  myths  to  which  the  boy  is 
introduced.  ^ 

"On  the  fifth  day,  in  the  afternoon,  another 
performance,  in  which  two  kangaroos  and  one 
dog  figure,  is  given.  The  kangaroos  wear,  as 
before,  a  small  Waninga  in  their  hair  and  this 
time  carry  between  their  teeth  and  also  in  their 
hair,  bunches  of  wooden  shavings  soaked  in 
blood,  which  are  supposed  to  represent  the 
wounds  received  from  the  bites  of  the  dogs. 
The  performance  is  essentially  similar  to  that  of 
the  previous  day,  and  the  antics  of  the  dog  as 
he  runs  round  and  looks  up,  barking  at  the 
kangaroo  or  howling  lustily  as  his  head  is  bumped 
against  the  ground  brings  smiles  to  every  face 
except  that  of  the   JVurtja} 

"On  the  sixth  day  the  Wurtja  is  taken  out 
hunting  by  the  men.  In  the  evening  while 
sitting  behind  his  brake  he  hears  songs  which 
refer  to  the  wanderings  of  the  ancestors.  It 
must  be  remembered  that  it  is  now  for  the  first 
time  that  the  boy  hears  anything  of  these  tradi- 
tions and  sees  the  ceremonies  performed,  in 
which  the  ancestors  of  the  tribe  are  represented 
as  they  were,  and  acting  as  they  did  during  life. 

'  Spencer  aiul  (jillcn,  "native  tribes  of  Central  Australia."  p.  zz^. 
'  ff'urtja  =  the  boy  who  is  being  initiated. 


146    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

These  plays  are  as  a  school  for  the  boys,  in  which 
they  receive  practically  all  their  education." 

A  necessary  part  of  the  ceremony  consists  in 
showing  to  the  novices  certain  dances,  the  im- 
portant and  common  feature  of  which  is,  that 
they  represent  special  totemic  animals.  In  the 
Arunta  tribe,  however,  they  have  a  very  definite 
meaning.  "At  the  first  glance  it  looks  much  as 
if  all  that  they  were  intended  to  represent  was 
the  behaviour  of  certain  animals,  but  in  reality 
they  have  a  much  deeper  meaning,  for  each  per- 
former represents  an  ancestral  individual  who 
lived  in  the  Alcheringa.^  He  was  a  member  of  a 
group  of  individuals,  all  of  whom,  just  like  him- 
self, were  the  direct  descendants  or  transforma- 
tions of  the  animals,  the  names  of  which  they 
bore.  It  is  as  a  reincarnation  of  the  never-dying 
spirit  part  of  one  of  these  semi-animal  ancestors 
that  every  member  of  the  tribe  is  born,  and 
therefore,  when  born,  he  or  she  bears  of  neces- 
sity the  name  of  the  animal  or  plant  of  which 
the  Alcheringa  ancestor  was  a  transformation 
or  descendant. 

"It  is  in  this  way  that  the  boy  during  the 
initiation  ceremonies  is  instructed  for  the  first 
time   in   any  of  the   sacred   matters   referring  to 

^  Akhcringa  =  mythical  past. 


INITIATION    CEREMONIES  147 

the  totems,  and  it  is  by  means  of  the  perform- 
ances which  are  concerned  with  certain  animals, 
or  rather,  apparently  with  these  animals,  but 
in  reality  with  the  Alcheringa  individuals  who 
were  the  direct  transformations  of  such  animals, 
that  the  traditions  dealing  with  this  subject, 
which  is  of  the  greatest  importance  in  the  eyes 
of  the  natives,  are  firmly  impressed  upon  the 
mind  of  the  novice,  to  whom  everything  which 
he  sees  and  hears  is  new  and  surrounded  with 
an  air  of  mystery."  ^ 

The  next  two  ceremonies,  those  of  circum- 
cision and  subincision,  take  place  at  intervals 
of  six  weeks.  These  being  performed,  the  novice 
is  regarded  as  an  initiated  member  of  the  tribe 
and  may  take  part  in  all  the  sacred  ceremonies 
of  his  group,  though  it  is  not  until  he  has  passed 
through  the  fire  ceremony  which  occurs  some 
years  later  that  he  is  regarded  as  a  fully  devel- 
oped man.  For  this  a  large  fire  is  made,  on  which 
are  placed  green  branches.  The  boy  is  forced 
to  lie  on  these,  and  although  the  heat  and 
smoke  are  stifling,  he  must  stay  for  four  or 
five  minutes.  The  purpose  is  to  make  the  boys 
more  hardy  and  to  impart  to  them  courage  and 

•  Spencer  .in J  (jillcn,  "Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia," 
pp.  224  IT. 


148    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

wisdom.^  It  ma}'  be  that  the  purifying  influ- 
ence of  fire  and  smoke  is  recognized,  for  we  find 
that  all  over  the  world  fire  plays  an  important 
part  in  religious  ceremonies. 

In  the  New  Guinea  initiation  ceremonies 
masked  men  of  the  tribe  dress  in  draperies  of 
grass  and  act  the  parts  of  various  gods.  The 
boys  are  led  into  the  wilderness  and  brought 
into  the  presence  of  the  mountain  god,  who 
delivers  an  impressive  address  to  the  frightened 
lads.  The  purport  is,  that  he  will  be  their  friend 
if  they  obey  the  elders,  but  if  they  disobey, 
the  most  direful  penalties  in  the  shape  of  disease 
and  death  will  overtake  them.^  The  main  ob- 
ject seems  to  be  to  keep  the  youths  under  the 
control  of  the  old  men.  They  do  not  realize 
that  the  men  impersonate  the  gods  and  so  be- 
lieve everything  that  they  are  told.  Here  the 
drama  acts  as  a  school  of  obedience  for  the  boys, 
which  they  think  is  in  the  hands  of  the  gods. 

One  of  the  cleverest  and  most  interesting  of 
these  initiation  ceremonies  is  reported  from  the 
Bismarck  Archipelago.  A  spirit  called  Duk-Duk 
assumes  a  visible  form  and  makes  its  appearance 

*  Spencer  and  Gillen,  "Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia," 
pp.  224  ff. 

*  Webster,  "Primitive  Secret  Societies,"  pp.  101-102. 


INITIATION    CEREMONIES  149 

at  stated  intervals,  which  always  occur  on  the 
first  day  of  a  new  moon.  It  is  announced  a 
month  beforehand  by  the  old  men,  to  one  of 
whom  it  is  said  to  belong.  During  that  month 
great  preparations  of  food  are  made,  and  should 
any  young  man  have  failed  to  provide  an 
adequate  supply  on  the  occasion  of  its  last  ap- 
pearance, he  receives  a  pretty  strong  hint  that 
Duk-Duk  is  displeased  with  him,  with  the  re- 
sult that  there  is  no  second  offence.  When  it  is 
remembered  that  the  old  men,  who  alone  have 
the  power  of  summoning  the  Duk-Duk  from  his 
house  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  are  too  weak  to 
provide  themselves  with  food,  the  reason  for 
this  hint  is  obvious.  Before  the  arrival  of  the 
Duk-Duk  the  women  disappear,  for  it  is  death 
for  a  woman  to  look  upon  this  unquiet  spirit. 
Before  daybreak  all  the  men  are  assembled  on 
the  beach,  the  young  ones  looking  very  fright- 
ened, for  they  know  that  the  Duk-Duk  is  aware 
of  all  their  shortcomings  for  the  last  month. 
"At  the  first  streak  of  dawn,  singing  and  drum- 
beating  is  heard  out  at  sea,  and,  as  soon  as 
there  is  enough  light  to  see  them,  five  or  six 
canoes,  lashed  together  with  a  platform  built 
over  them,  are  seen  to  be  slowly  advancing 
towards    the    beach.     Two    most    extraordinary 


150    THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

figures  appear  dancing  on  the  platform,  uttering 
shrill  cries,  like  a  small  dog  yelping.  They 
seem  to  be  about  ten  feet  high,  but  so  rapid 
are  their  movements  that  it  is  difficult  to  observe 
them  carefully.  However,  the  outward  and 
visible  form  assumed  by  them  is  intended  to 
represent  a  gigantic  cassowary,  with  the  most 
hideous  and  grotesque  of  human  faces.  The 
dress,  which  is  made  of  the  leaves  of  the  dra- 
conaena,  certainly  looks  much  like  the  body  of 
this  bird,  but  the  head  is  like  nothing  but  the 
head  of  a  Duk-Duk.  It  is  a  conical  shaped 
erection,  about  five  feet  high,  made  of  very  fine 
basket  work,  and  gummed  all  over  to  give  a 
surface  on  which  the  diabolical  countenance  is 
depicted.  No  arms  or  hands  are  visible  and  the 
dress  extends  down  to  the  knees.  The  old  men, 
doubtless,  are  in  the  secret,  but  by  the  alarmed 
look  on  the  faces  of  the  others,  it  is  easy  to  see 
that  they  imagine  that  there  is  nothing  human 
about  these  alarming  visitors.  As  soon  as  the 
canoes  touch  the  beach,  the  two  Duk-Duks  jump 
out,  and  at  once  the  natives  fall  back  so  as  to 
avoid  touching  them.  If  a  Duk-Duk  is  touched, 
even  by  accident,  he  very  frequently  kills  the 
unfortunate  native  on  the  spot.  After  landing, 
the  Duk-Duks  dance   around  each  other,  imitat- 


INITIATION    CEREMONIES  151 

ing  the  ungainly  motion  of  the  cassowary  and 
uttering  their  shrill  cries.  During  the  whole  of 
their  stay  they  make  no  sound  but  this.  It 
would  never  do  for  them  to  speak,  for  in  that 
case,  they  might  be  recognized  by  their  voices. 
Nothing  more  is  to  be  done  now  till  evening, 
and  they  occupy  their  time  running  up  and  down 
the  beach,  through  the  village,  and  into  the 
bush,  and  seem  to  be  very  fond  of  turning  up  in 
the  most  unexpected  manner,  and  frightening  the 
natives  half  out  of  their  wits.  During  the  day  a 
little  house  has  been  built  for  the  Duk-Duk's 
benefit.  No  one  but  the  old  men  knows  exactly 
where  this  house  is,  as  it  is  carefully  concealed. 
Here  one  may  suppose  the  restless  spirit  unbends 
to  a  certain  extent  and  has  his  meals.  Cer- 
tainly no  one  would  venture  to  disturb  him. 
In  the  evening  a  vast  pile  of  food  is  collected 
and  is  borne  off  by  the  old  men  into  the  bush, 
every  man  making  his  contribution  to  the  meal. 
The  Duk-Duk,  if  satisfied,  maintains  a  complete 
silence,  but  if  he  does  not  think  the  amount 
collected  sufficient,  he  shows  his  disapprobation 
by  yelping  and  leaping."  In  order  to  prepare 
their  minds  for  the  mysteries  of  the  Duk-Duk, 
the  boys  are  beaten  with  sticks  until  the  blood 
flows  freelv.     On  the  last  dav  that  the  moon  is 


152    THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

visible,  the  Duk-Duk  disappears  as  silently  as 
he  came  and  thus  the  mystery  is  kept  up.  At 
frequent  intervals  the  man  who  has  impersonated 
the  spirit  leaves  his  costume  in  the  woods  and 
mixes  with  the  people  of  the  village  so  that  they 
will  not  suspect  that  one  of  their  number  is 
taking  the  part.  He  even  adds  his  supply  of 
food  to  the  general  contribution.^ 

One  very  clear  point  of  difference  presents 
itself  here  between  this  initiation  and  that  of 
the  boys  in  Australia.  In  the  latter  the  boys 
receive  their  instruction  in  practically  all  the 
ways  of  life  through  the  ceremonies,  but  the 
subjection  of  the  boys  through  fear  is  a  minor 
element,  while  in  the  Bismarck  Archipelago 
fear  plays  the  most  important  role.  This  pur- 
pose is  very  effective  during  the  entire  period 
of  adolescence  and  often  lasts  far  into  manhood 
before  they  learn  that  it  was  a  member  of  their 
own  tribe  who  took  the  part  of  the  Duk-Duk. 
While  of  course  it  is  important  that  the  older 
men   of  the  tribe  should   have  control  over  the 

1  Webster,  loc.  cit.,  pp.  111-114;  G.  Brown,  "Melanesians  and 
Polynesians,"  pp.  60-72.  The  drama  here  has  assumed  a  practical 
turn  and  might  almost  be  put  under  the  "  Food  Ceremonies,"  for  by 
means  of  it  the  old  men  of  the  tribe  get  enough  on  which  to  live  very 
comfortably;  but  because  it  has  the  other  purpose  of  initiating  the 
boys,  it  is  thought  best  to  put  it  in  here. 


INITIATION    CEREMONIES  153 

youths,  even  though  it  is  obtained  through  fear, 
yet  it  is  a  question  whether  the  method  adopted 
by  the  Austrahans  of  obtaining  control  through 
respect  for  learning  is  not  really  in  the  end  more 
effective.  There  the  youths  are  kept  in  the 
training  school  until  they  are  nearly  twenty-five 
years  old  and  it  is  only  natural  that  the  respect 
which  exists  in  other  places  of  pupil  for  teacher 
should  dominate  the  relationship  even  among  the 
savages. 

Numerous  other  instances  of  these  initiation 
ceremonies  could  be  cited,  practiced  by  peoples 
the  world  over.  In  all  of  them  the  same  funda- 
mental elements  appear.  They  serve  to  intro- 
duce the  boys  when  they  have  reached  the  age 
of  puberty  into  the  myths  and  history  of  their 
tribe  and  totem.  They  act  as  a  school  for  them, 
and,  among  many  peoples,  they  are  the  agency 
through  which  they  receive  their  first  moral 
teachings.  Again,  the  boys  are  taught  to  respect 
and  obey  the  elders  of  the  tribe,  who  frighten 
them  into  thinking  that  their  commands  are 
the  orders  of  the  gods.  All  such  fundamental 
ideas  are  conveyed  to  the  youths  by  means  of 
dramatic    representations. 


DRAMATIC  WAR  CEREMONIES 


CHAPTER  VI 
DRAMATIC   WAR   CEREMONIES 

IN  the  preceding  chapters  we  have  discussed 
at  length  the  ways  and  means  that  savage 
man  has  adopted  for  deaUng  with  the  spirit 
world.  Through  the  plant  and  the  animal  cere- 
monies he  hopes  to  keep  up  the  supply  of  the 
important  elements  of  his  daily  sustenance.  By 
coercing  the  spirits  ruling  the  sun  and  rain,  he 
endeavors  to  obtain  an  equilibrium  between 
these  two  essential  factors  of  life.  However, 
we  have  not  as  yet  mentioned  some  of  the  means 
by  which,  on  certain  occasions,  the  primitive  man 
endeavors  to  secure  the  assistance  of  the  spirits 
in  dealing  with  human  beings  like  himself.  We 
have  left  this  until  now  because  it  does  not  play 
such  an  important  part  in  savage  life.  As  a 
rule  the  man  of  low  culture  feels  better  able  to 
cope  alone  with  indixiduals  of  his  own  kind  whom 
he  can  see  and  hear  than  he  does  with  that  vast 
unseen  horde  of  spirits  about  him.  llis  rela- 
tionship with  his  fellowman  is  not  so  dependent 
upon  the  aleatory,  the  unreckonable  element,  as 


IS8    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

are  his  dealings  with  the  members  of  the  other 
world.  Hence  it  is  only  under  extraordinary 
circumstances  that  a  man  will  call  upon  the  gods 
for  help  in  dealing  with  human  beings,  for  he 
relies  largely  on  past  experience  to  help  him. 
However,  if  there  is  a  man  whom,  for  some 
reason,  the  savage  does  not  want  to  attack  alone, 
he  has  recourse  to  sympathetic  magic,  by  means 
of  which  he  hopes  to  bring  about  his  enemy's 
death  or  downfall.  If  he  wishes  to  find  the 
whereabouts  of  some  enemy  whom  he  thinks  has 
done  him  a  wrong,  he  asks  the  spirits  to  tell 
him.  While  these  appeals  are  in  a  way  dra- 
matic, in  that  they  are  imitative,  yet  they  lack 
definite  human  action  and  for  that  reason  are 
only  mentioned  in  passing.  There  is,  however, 
one  method  employed  by  man  in  dealing  with 
his  own  kind  which  is  truly  dramatic,  and  that 
is  the  war  dance  or  ceremony  which  is  performed 
among  nearly  all  savage  peoples  the  world  over. 
The  purpose  for  which  it  is  enacted  is  twofold; 
first,  to  get  the  gods  on  their  side  in  the  fight, 
and  second,  to  work  themselves  up  to  such  a 
pitch  of  excitement  that  they  will  rush  into 
the  fray  and  show  no  mercy  to  any  who  may 
fall  in  their  path.^ 

1  W.  I.  Thomas,  "Sex  and  Society,"  p.  258. 


DRAMATIC  WAR  CEREMONIES       159 

In  communities  of  low  civilization  there  are 
manifold  reasons  for  which  the  drama  is  per- 
formed, but,  according  to  our  view,  only  two  of 
them  really  accomplish  that  for  which  they  are 
intended.  The  first  is  to  give  pleasure,  and  the 
second,  which  is  to  be  seen  in  these  war  cere- 
monies, is  to  induce  a  high  degree  of  excitement. 
Without  this  latter  element  the  savage  wars 
would  be  very  much  less  horrible  than  they  are 
now. 

The  natives  of  Australia  do  not  believe  that 
such  a  thing  as  a  natural  death  can  occur,  hence 
when  any  one  dies,  the  person  who  killed  him 
is  always  sought.  A  man  or  party  of  men  who 
start  to  find  such  an  one  is  called  *'Kurdaitcha." 
Before  they  go,  a  ceremony  is  performed  to 
insure  success.  Five  of  the  six  men  who  take 
part  are  elaborately  painted  with  various  designs. 
In  their  hands  they  carry  shields  and  either  a 
spear-thrower,  a  boomerang  or  a  spear.  With 
very  exaggerated  high  stepping,  the  four  men 
appear  on  the  place  cleared  for  the  ceremony. 
After  dancing  around  for  a  few  moments  each 
lies  down  on  the  ground  in  as  small  a  space  as 
possible,  and  covers  himself  with  his  shield. 
Suddenly  an  old  man  appears  armed  only  with  a 
fighting  club.     He  wanders  around  for  some  time 


l6o    THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

as  though  he  were  looking  for  the  tracks  of  an 
animal.  When  his  back  is  turned,  the  four  men, 
who  have  by  now  risen  from  the  ground,  steal 
cautiously  up  behind  him.  Suddenly  he  turns 
and  catches  sight  of  the  men  who  are  about  to 
kill  him  with  one  of  their  weapons.  A  mock 
fight  ensues  in  which  the  old  man  kills  all  of 
the  others.  This  is  repeated  several  times  until 
finally  the  "dead  bodies"  are  heaped  in  front 
of  him  while  he  waves  a  club  in  the  air.  This 
play  is  based  upon  an  actual  occurrence  which 
took  place  in  the  past,  when  a  noted  warrior, 
who  was  thought  to  have  killed  a  man,  was 
tracked  on  a  hunting  expedition  by  four  Kur- 
daitchas.  With  his  greater  strength  he  turned 
and  killed  them  all.^ 

This  is  one  of  the  few  examples  that  we  find 
in  which  the  war  ceremony  is  the  acting  out  of 
an  historical  incident.  As  a  rule,  the  plays  deal 
only  with  the  present,  or  rather,  with  the  future 
and  not  with  the  past,^  but  so  steeped  are  the 
Australians  in  that  which  has  gone  before  that 
there  are  very  few  ceremonies  which  have  not 
some  reference  to  times  gone  by.     This  suggests 

*  Spencer  and  Gillen,  "Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,"  pp. 
476  ff.;   Spencer  and  Gillen,  "Across  Australia." 
^  J.  Harrison,  "Themis,"  p.  44. 


DRAMATIC  WAR  CEREMONIES       l6l 

a  rather  interesting  development  in  the  evolu- 
tion of  a  numher  of  the  savage  ceremonies. 
Probably  the  first  war  dance  that  was  given 
and  the  first  mimic  hunting  scene  which  was 
enacted  had  as  patterns  a  very  definite  war  or 
hunt;  but  by  constantly  reacting  the  same  scene, 
the  specific  incident  was  forgotten  and  the  gen- 
eral idea  of  war  or  hunting  took  its  place.' 

In  New  South  Wales  the  war  dance  is  begun 
by  the  dancers  dashing  out  and  brandishing  in 
the  air  clubs,  spears,  boomerangs  and  shields. 
This  is  followed  by  the  men  dividing  into  groups 
and  then  rushing  at  each  other  for  a  hand  to 
hand  conflict.  One  crowd  of  men  is  quickly 
driven  off  the  field  and  are  pursued  into  the 
dark  by  the  victors.  Howls,  moans  and  the 
sound  of  striking  clubs  give  the  impression  that 
a  terrible  massacre  is  taking  place.  The  music 
for  all  of  this  has  been  wild  and  passionate  and 
in  perfect  keeping  with  the  bloody  event  which 
was  being  enacted.  This  event  is,  as  a  rule, 
followed  by  another  dance  in  which  the  per- 
formers work  themselves  up  to  a  high  pitch  of 
excitement  by  leaping  wildly  around  the  fire,  keep- 
ing in  time  to  the  rapid  beating  of  the  drum."- 

'  J.  Harrison,  "Ancient  Art  and  Ritual,"  p.  42. 
'  E.  Grossc,  "Ihe  Hcginnings  of  Art,  "  p.  219 


l62    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

It  is  not  always  necessary  that  a  war  be  immi- 
nent in  order  that  the  savages  may  enjoy  the 
pleasures  of  one  of  these  wild  dances.  Often 
a  tribe  will  go  through  a  war  ceremony  for  the 
exhilaration  which  is  gotten  out  of  it,  or  to  enter- 
tain visitors.  But  no  matter  for  what  purpose 
the  dance  is  given,  whether  as  a  rite  before  an 
actual  war  or  merely  for  pleasure,  it  is  carried 
out  in  a  very  serious  manner  and  there  is  no 
more  levity  on  a  social  occasion  than  there  is 
when  actual  hostilities  are  threatened. 

Mr.  A.  C.  Haddon  describes  as  follows  a  war 
dance  which  he  witnessed  on  the  Prince  of  Wales 
Island:  "I  was  entertained  with  a  war  dance, 
a  most  interesting  rehearsal  of  a  dance  which 
forty  years  ago  would  have  commemorated 
some  deed  of  valour  or  treachery.  I  gathered 
that  such  dances  were  never  indulged  in  for 
mere  amusement  and  were  quite  distinct  from 
what  may  be  termed  the  festival  dance.  It  was 
evening  on  a  sandy  shore.  Near  a  fire  sat  the 
primitive  orchestra.  The  drums  were  beaten 
in  a  rhythmical  monotone  and  a  wailing  chant 
accompanied  them.  Gradually  from  the  far 
distance  swarthy  forms  came,  as  it  were,  into 
focus,  and  marched  along  in  twos  or  threes: 
then,    in    sinuous    course,    they    performed    their 


DRAMATIC  WAR  CEREMONIES       163 

evolutions,  varying  the  celerity  of  their  move- 
ments to  the  time  of  the  weird  singing.  A  mass 
of  dried  herbage  thrown  on  the  fire  lighted  up  the 
scene  and  revealed  a  glowing  picture  of  savagery. 
The  bodies  of  the  dancers  were  daubed  and 
painted  with  ochre,  and  they  wore  various  bits 
of  colored  cloth,  beads,  shells,  etc.  Leaves  were 
worn  in  the  armlets,  in  belt,  etc. 

"The  dance  illustrated  the  'warpath,'  the 
band  of  pretended  warriors  sometimes  marching, 
more  often  skipping  or  stealthily  stealing  along, 
suddenly  coming  upon  the  foe  with  a  'Wahu!' 
Then  they  skipped  two  or  three  times,  usually 
raising  the  right  leg,  brandishing  their  weapons 
at  the  same  time.  Again  and  again  the  dread 
'Wahu!'  sounded.  This  really  effective  man- 
oeuvre showed  to  yet  greater  advantage  when, 
instead  of  being  in  rank,  the  men  deployed  in 
a  semicircle  facing  the  glaring  fires,  then,  with 
their  glittering  eyes  and  gleaming  teeth  and  the 
waving  of  bows  and  arrows  and  stone  clubs, 
one  realized  how  terrible  to  the  lonely  and  sur- 
prised enemy  must  have  been  the  'Wahu!' 
of  such  a  foe. 

"The  series  of  war  dances  concluded  with  an 
evolution  in  lively  measure,  evidently  indicative 
of  military  success,   as,  with  exultant  cries,  the 


164    THE   DRAMA  OF   SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

performers  swayed  their  right  hands.  The  dire 
significance  of  this  last  movement  was  not 
difficult  to  discover.  It  represented  what  for- 
merly occurred  after  a  successful  fora}',  for  after 
beheading  the  slain  with  their  bamboo  knives, 
the  victorious  warriors  threaded  the  heads  on 
the  rattan  slings,  which  always  hung  on  their 
backs  when  they  went  on  the  warpath,  and  as 
they  returned  joyously  home  they  swung  their 
ghastly  burdens  backward  and  forward  with 
jubilant   cries."  ^ 

This  last  incident  is  a  very  good  example  of  a 
survival  of  what  actually  took  place  in  the  past 
but  has  now  disappeared.  It  is  interesting  to 
note  how  much  of  the  former  history  of  a  people 
may  be  obtained  through  these  little  incidents 
appearing  in  their  myths,  legends  and  dramas. 
In  this  particular  case  we  are  able  to  say  what 
were  the  precise  means  adopted  for  dealing  with 
a   fallen   enemy. 

One  of  the  most  dramatic  of  the  war  dances 
occurs  among  the  Sea  Dyaks  of  Borneo.  This 
is  carried  out  by  one  man  who  is,  as  a  rule,  in 
full  battle  attire,  and  armed  with  a  spear,  sword 
and  shield.  He  goes  through  an  elaborate  panto- 
mime showing  what  happens  on  the  actual  war- 

1  A.  C.  Haddon,  "Head  Hunters,"  pp.  187  ff. 


DRAMATIC  WAR   CEREMONIES       165 

path.  He  starts  by  pretending  to  creep  through 
the  dense  undergrowth  in  a  very  cautious  man- 
ner, peering  all  about  him  for  the  enemy.  Sud- 
denly the  hiding  foe  is  discovered  and  a  fight 
ensues,  which  ends  when  he  lies  dead  on  the 
ground.  The  head  of  this  imaginary  foe  is 
now  taken  as  it  would  be  after  a  real  fight. 
Frequently  the  dancer  varies  the  story  and  in- 
stead of  overcoming  his  enemy,  he  himself  is 
overcome.  This  gives  him  a  good  opportunity 
to  display  his  histrionic  ability  in  the  death 
agonies  through  which  he  goes  before  he  finally 
succumbs.^ 

In  this  dance  we  see  a  simple  story  enacted 
in  a  manner  similar  to  that  used  by  a  much 
more  primitive  man  at  a  time  when  language 
was  very  meagre.  A  person  of  that  period 
would  probably  have  told  to  his  people,  in 
almost  the  same  vvay,  the  story  of  a  fight.  He 
had  in  acting,  a  language  which  was  understood 
by  all,  and  this  in  a  large  measure  made  up  for 
the  lack  of  a  more  fully  developed  spoken  tongue. 
As  was  shown  in  the  first  chapter,  it  was  out 
of  an  acted  story  such  as  this  that  the  more 
highly   perfected   drama  grew. 

'  E.  H.  Cjomcs,  "Seventeen  ^'ears  Among  the  Sea  Dyaks  of 
Borneo,"  p.  222. 


i66    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

Among  the  Haitians  an  elaborate  war  drama  is 
performed  in  which  are  portrayed  the  motive  for 
the  war,  the  departure  of  the  warriors,  the  am- 
buscades, the  surprise  of  the  enemy,  the  com- 
bat, the  celebration  of  the  victory,  and  the 
return  of  the  war  party.  The  last  act  consists 
of  mortuary  rites  of  a  commemorative  nature 
for  the  fallen.^  It  is  a  simple  matter  to  find 
a  play  on  the  modern  stage  which  has  exactly 
the  same  outline  of  a  plot  as  this  one  just 
described.  Many  of  those  dealing  with  the 
incidents  of  the  Civil  War  were  much  less  com- 
plicated than  this  play  of  the  savages.  The 
last  incident  or  the  mourning  for  the  dead  has  a 
very  close  analogy  on  the  Greek  stage  where  in 
such  a  play  as  ^^Ischylus'  "Agamemnon,"  the 
chorus  cry  out,  "Woe!  Woe!  My  King!  My 
King!  How  shall  I  mourn  thee?  What  shall 
I  utter  from  my  affectionate  soul.'"'  In  the 
"Seven  Against  Thebes"  Antigone  and  Ismene 
sing  over  the  body  of  Eteocles  as  it  is  borne 
back  from  the  fatal  combat  with  his  brother 
Polynices  to  be  buried  at  Thebes.  Antigone 
says,  "Thou  smotest  and  wert  smitten."  Ism. 
"Thou  slewest  and  wert  slain.     With  the  spear 

^  J.  W.  Fewkes,  "The  Aborigines  of  Porto  Rico,"  Bureau  of 
Ethnology  Report,  1903-4,  p.  64. 


DRAMATIC  WAR  CEREMONIES       167 

thou  hast  killed,  with  the  spear  thou  wert 
killed."  Antig.  "Sorrow  thou  wroughtest!" 
Ism.  "Sorrow  thou  sufferedst!"  Antig.  "Let 
wailing  arise!"  Ism.  "Let  the  tear  well  forth!" 
Antig.  "There  thou  liest  low!"  Ism.  "Thou 
laidest  thy  foe  low."  Antig.  "Alas,  alas,  my 
brain  is  maddened  with  laments."  Ism.  "My 
heart  within  me  makes  moan."  Finally  the 
body  of  Eteocles  is  carried  off  the  stage  to  the 
grave,  but  the  tomb  is  not  seen.^  iEschylus' 
"Persae"  is  also  a  worship  of  dead  heroes.-  The 
Greeks  likewise  had  war  dances  whose  main 
purpose  seems  to  have  been  "to  familiarize  the 
young  citizens  with  the  various  postures  of 
attack  and  defence  and  with  the  evolutions  of 
an  enemy."  ^ 

The  majority  of  the  savage  war  dances  are 
accompanied  by  singing.  The  following  is  the 
translation  of  one  of  the   Polynesian   songs. 

"Roll  onward  like  the  billows, 
Break  on  them  with  the  foam  and  roar 
of  the  ocean  as  it  bursts  on  the  reefs; 
Hang  on   them   as  the  forked   lightning 
plays    above    the    frothing    surf; 

'  Ridfieway,  "Origin  of  Tragedy,"  p.  142. 

*  Ibid.,  p.  114. 

*  J.  \V.  Donaldson,  "The  Theatre  of  the  Greeks,"  p.  11. 


i68    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

Till   their  line  is   broken   and   they   flee 
backward    like   the    receding   tide."  ^ 

The  following  song  is  a  translation  of  one  used 
by  the  Iroquois  in  their  dances. 

"I  am  brave  and  intrepid  —  I  do  not  fear 
death  or  any  kind  of  torture  —  those 
who  fear  them  are  cowards.  They  are 
less  than  women.  Life  is  nothing  to 
those  who  have  courage.  May  my  enemies 
be  confounded  with  despair  and  rage!"^ 

A  war  play  among  the  natives  of  Sarawak 
which  would  have  done  credit  to  a  more  modern 
society  opens  with  a  man  seated  on  the  ground 
picking  a  thorn  out  of  his  foot.  He  is  evidently 
expecting  an  attack  from  an  enemy,  for  his 
weapons  are  beside  him  and  he  is  looking  around 
suspiciously.  Finally  the  enemy  is  discovered 
and  a  conflict  takes  place.  In  the  course  of  the 
fight  a  sudden  plunge  on  the  part  of  the  foe  so 
injures  the  man  that  he  falls  dying.  Before 
finally  expiring,  he  graphically  portrays  all  the 
death  agonies.  He  has  hardly  ceased  struggling 
when  the  enemy  grabs  the  head  and  cuts  it  off. 
While  holding  up  the  bloody  trophy  he  suddenly 

*  G.  F.  S.  Elliott,  "The  Romance  of  Savage  Life,"  p.  223. 
'  Morgan,  "League  of  Iroquois."     Vol.  I,  p.  260. 


DRAMATIC  WAR   CEREMONIES       169 

discovers  that  the  man  was  not  an  enemy,  but 
his  brother.  At  this  point  the  dancer  gives 
way  to  a  most  horrible  performance  in  which  he 
tries  to  depict  the  feehngs  of  remorse.  In  the 
end  he  falls  on  the  ground  in  a  convulsive  fit 
and  is  attended  by  a  medicine  man.' 

Of  the  numerous  types  of  dramatic  dances 
among  the  Naga  tribes  of  North  East  India  the 
war  dance  is  most  important.  It  commences 
with  a  review  of  the  warriors  who  later  advance 
and  retreat,  parrying  blows,  and  throwing  spears 
as  though  in  a  real  fight.  They  creep  along  in 
battle  array,  keeping  as  near  the  ground  as 
possible  so  that  nothing  shows  but  a  line  of 
shields.  When  they  are  near  enough  to  the 
imaginary  enemy  they  spring  up  and  attack. 
After  they  have  killed  the  opposing  party  they 
grab  tufts  of  grass,  which  represent  the  heads, 
and  these  they  sever  with  their  battle  axes. 
Returning  home  they  carry  the  clod  over  their 
shoulders  as  they  would  the  heads  of  real  men. 
At  the  village  they  are  met  by  the  women  who 
join  in  a  triumphant  song  and  dance. '^ 

'  H.  Ling  Roth,  "Natives  of  S.-irawak  s.nJ  British  North  Roriieu," 
Vol.  I,  p.  250;   R.  Wallaschek,  "  Primitive  Music,"  p.  218. 

*  G.  M.  (Sodden,  "NaRa  and  Other  Frontier  Tribes  of  Northeast 
India,"  27  J.  A.  I.,  p.  5;  T.  C.  Hodson,  "The  Naga  Tribes  of 
Manipur,"  p.  67. 


lyo    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

These  war  dances  or  pantomimes  are  typical 
of  those  existing  among  nearly  all  savage  peoples 
the  world  over.  They  show  in  common  the 
means  by  which  the  savages  hope  to  get  the  gods 
on  their  side  in  the  battle  through  the  applica- 
tion of  sympathetic  magic. ^ 

War  has  alwa3's  been  a  favorite  subject  upon 
which  to  found  the  story  of  a  play,  and  the 
distance  is  not  very  great  between  these  serious 
rites  of  the  savage  and  the  plays  of  the  Greeks 
possessing  the  war  elements.  But  it  is  not  even 
necessary  to  rise  to  such  a  civilized  community 
in  order  to  see  the  war  drama  stripped  of  its 
important  function,  for  many  of  the  savage 
peoples  enact  such  plays  merely  for  the  pleasure 
which  they  themselves  get  out  of  it.  So  it  is 
with  many  of  the  ceremonies  which  we  have  so 
far  studied.  They  lose  their  religious  idea 
entirely  and  remain  among  the  people  merely 
as  sources  of  enjoyment.  These  survivals  in 
the  pleasure  plays  of  savage  peoples  will  be 
dealt  with  in  the  next  chapter. 

*  Among  the  Tshi-speaking  people  when  the  men  are  away  at  a 
war,  the  women  go  through  various  pantomimic  dances  at  home  in 
order  that  the  men  may  be  successful.  Ellis,  "Tshi-speaking 
Peoples  of  the  Gold  Coast  of  West  Africa,"  pp.  226  fF.  The  Masai 
also  have  war  dances.  H.  H.  Johnston,  "Uganda  Protectorate," 
Vol.  II,  p.  833;  Morgan,  "The  League  of  the  Iroquois,"  Vol.  I, 
p.  261. 


THE   PLEASURE   PLAVS   OF 
SAVAGE  PEOPLE 


CHAPTER   VII 

THE   PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF 
SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

IN  all  of  the  dramatic  performances  which 
have  thus  far  been  considered  there  has 
been  a  dominant  note  of  seriousness.  The 
people  had  ideas  to  express,  petitions  and  re- 
quests to  make  to  the  higher  powers,  and  they 
found  that  their  most  effective  means  of  accom- 
plishing this  was  by  allowing  the  imitative 
impulse  to  have  full  sway.  By  so  doing,  they 
experienced  an  unconscious  pleasure,  that  is,  an 
enjoyment  similar  to  that  which  a  hungry  man 
feels  when  he  obtains  food.  In  both  of  these 
there  is  need  in  the  body  to  be  satisfied,  one 
mental,  the  other  physical,  and  by  satisfying 
it  they  receive  a  certain  amount  of  pleasure. 
The  civilized  man  differs  from  the  savage  in  the 
purpose  of  the  theatre,  in  that  he  has  an  aim  in 
attending  a  dramatic  performance  no  more 
serious  than  that  of  enjoyment.  Thus  wc  may 
say  that  as  culture  advances  the  more  important 
functions  for  which  the  drama  was  intended  by 


174     THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

its  originators  drop  out,  leaving  only  the  shell. ^ 
We  can  compare  the  savage  drama  with  its 
dominant  religious  idea  to  the  cocoon  of  a  silk 
worm  with  the  animal  inside.  There  is  life  and 
vitality  there,  but  as  maturity  is  reached,  the 
butterfly  cuts  its  way  out,  leaving  merely  the 
covering.  This  phase  of  the  drama  is  also  seen 
in  many  savage  communities,  but  differs  from 
that  of  the  civilized  in  that  the  two  remain  side 
by  side  —  the  serious  and  the  pleasurable.  The 
close  connection  between  these  two  becomes 
very  evident  at  this  earl}'  stage  and  we  often 
see  a  play  performed  at  one  time  for  the  purpose 
of  obtaining  some  favor  from  the  gods,  and  the 
next  time  for  the  pleasure  which  it  gives  to  those 
concerned. 

In  comparing  the  savage  drama  with  that  of 
people  on  a  higher  plane  of  culture,  we  find  that 
they  have  many  of  their  essential  elements  in 
common.  For  instance,  not  only  in  the  early 
drama  of  the  savages,  but  also  in  that  of  early 
Greece  there  is  no  division  between  the  actors 
and  spectators.     "All  are  actors,  all  are  doing  the 

'  In  discussing  the  motives  of  play,  Tylor  ("Anthropology,"  p. 
305)  says,  "It  is  doing  for  the  sake  of  doing,  not  for  what  is  done." 
The  drama  in  the  later  development  of  these  pleasure  plays  fulfills  this 
description  of  play,  although  in  its  earlier  history  it  is  doing,  not  for 
the  sake  of  doing,  but  for  what  is  actually  done  or  accomplished. 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE  175 

thing  done,  dancing  the  dance  danced.  Thus  at 
initiation  ceremonies  the  whole  tribe  assembles, 
the  only  spectators  are  the  uninitiated,  the 
women  and  the  children.  No  one  at  this  early 
stage  thinks  of  building  a  theatre,  that  is,  a 
spectators'  place."  ^  The  drama  is  an  act  of 
worship  to  be  participated  in  by  all  those  who 
are  allowed  the  privilege  of  communicating  with 
the  gods.  There  is  no  idea  of  a  spectacular 
performance  carried  out  for  the  sake  of  the 
pleasurable  satisfaction  which  it  gives.  Several 
stages  are  passed  through  before  this  condition 
is  reached.  As  the  ritual  becomes  more  com- 
plicated, and  as  the  people  come  to  feel  that 
unless  every  part  is  enacted  each  time  in  pre- 
cisely the  same  way  the  efficacy  is  lost,'^  it  is 
impossible  for  the  common  man  to  take  part. 
Thus  arises  the  priesthood,  composed  of  men  who 
through  some  peculiar  gift  are  able  effectually  to 
communicate   with    the   gods    and    spirits    in    the 

*  J.  Harrison,  "Ancient  Art  and  Ritual,"  p.  216. 

»  Among  the  Areoi  of  the  Polynesian  Islands  if  there  was  an  error 
of  a  single  word  in  the  dramatic  recitations  the  fetes  would  be  sus- 
pended. Mcerenhout,  "Voyages  aux  lies  du  Grand  Ocean,"  Vol.  I, 
pp.  502  fF.  In  the  Kwakiutl  societies  there  rould  be  no  greater  mis- 
fortune than  that  an  error  should  be  made  in  the  recitation  or  a  false 
step  in  a  dance.  Such  misfortune  would  brmg  down  on  the  per- 
formers the  ill-will  of  the  directing  spirits.  Boas,  Report  of  the 
United  States  National  Museum,  1895,  pp.  433  S. 


176    THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

prescribed  manner.^  The  rest  of  the  tribe  become 
spectators  or  silent  petitioners.  We  see  a  parallel 
case  in  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  where  the 
priests  are  the  active  worshippers,  the  congre- 
gation the  passive.  In  Greece  the  tendency 
was  along  this  same  line.  The  actors  became 
separate  from  the  audience  and  the  plays  began 
to  lose  their  intensely  religious  character  and 
to  become  more  secular. 

It  is  a  fairly  easy  matter  to  make  a  general 
statement  which  will  apply  to  one  small  com- 
munity such  as  Greece  —  it  is  far  harder  to 
make  one  which  holds  true  for  all  savage  com- 
munities and  for  all  ceremonies  in  these  com- 
munities. It  will  therefore  be  necessary  to 
modify  to  some   extent  the  statement    made  in 

^  Among  the  Tslii-speaking  people  "dancing  is  a  special  branch  in 
the  education  of  a  priest  and  of  a  priestess.  They  must  be  very  pro- 
ficient in  this  art  and  they  are  taught  privately  by  adepts  for  many 
months  before  they  are  allowed  to  perform  in  public.  The  dance  is 
always  performed  to  the  sound  of  drums,  and  it  is  during  it  that  a 
priest  is  possessed  by  a  god,  and  lets  fall  oracular  utterances."  Ellis, 
"Tshi-speaking  People  of  the  Gold  Coast  of  West  Africa,"  p.  I2I. 

Among  the  Polynesians,  if  a  boy  wishes  to  be  admitted  to  one  of 
the  sacred  dramatic  societies,  he  must  first  give  evidence  of  being 
inspired  by  the  gods.  Before  initiation  he  remains  on  probation  for 
months  and  even  years.  His  stay  in  the  lowest  grades  is  prolonged 
until  he  has  mastered  the  songs,  dances  and  dramatic  performances. 
H.  Webster,  "Primitive  Secret  Societies,"  p.  165;  Ellis,  "Polynesian 
Research,"  Vol.  I,  p.  190.  See  H.  Spencer,  "  Principles  of  Sociology," 
Vol.  Ill,  on  the  Priest  as  Actor. 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE  177 

the  last  paragraph  that  the  priests  always  take 
the  leading  roles.  A  priest  is  one  who  acts  as  a 
mediator  between  man  and  the  gods,  hence, 
in  the  strictest  sense,  all  who  take  part  in  the 
religious  plays  are  priests.  If  we  look  at  various 
ceremonies  which  have  been  described,  we  shall 
see  that  the  leading  actors  are  not  the  so-called 
priests  or  medicine  men  in  the  accepted  sense. 
In  Australia  the  leading  role  is  usually  taken  by 
one  of  the  older  men  of  the  totem,  who  is  versed 
in  the  lore  and  traditions  of  his  group.  In  the 
war  ceremonies  of  all  peoples,  the  warriors,  led 
by  the  chief  fighting  man,  go  through  the  per- 
formance, for  it  is  they  who  are  most  vitally 
interested  in  the  success  of  the  expedition. 
They  are  the  strong  people  whose  appeals  will 
be  more  readily  answered  by  the  war  gods  than 
would  the  requests  of  a  man  who  had  never 
been  on  the  battle  field.  We  might  almost  call 
them  the  war  priests,  for  they  stand  between  the 
gods  and  the  people.  A  general  statement 
which  can  be  made  is,  that  those  men  are  chosen 
for  the  different  roles  in  the  dramatic  cere- 
monies who  for  that  particular  rite  are  thought 
to  be  able  to  obtain  from  the  spirits  and  gods  the 
things  needed  by  the  tribe  or  group.  Thus  it 
comes  about  that  when  the  ceremonies  lose  their 


178    THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

religious  character  and  appear  as  simple  pleasure 
plavs,  the  men  who  before  have  been  taking  the 
parts  continue  to  do  so  because  of  their  great 
ability  and  long  experience.  In  societies  where 
there  are  two  sets  of  plays  —  the  secular  and  the 
religious  —  the  same  characters  appear  in  both. 

The  church  dramas  of  the  Middle  Ages  were 
performed  within  the  church  by  the  priests/ 
but  as  they  came  to  lose  their  sacred  character 
they  were  put  out  of  the  church.  "There  was 
also  another  important  reason  for  this  change. 
The  plays  had  become  so  long  and  the  settings  so 
elaborate  that  they  could  not  be  accommodated 
within  the  walls  of  the  church,  and  hence  they 
were  sent  out  to  the  porch,  the  graveyard,  and 
finally  to  the  market  place."  ^  The  priests,  how- 
ever, continued  to  act  in  them  because  of  their 
greater  proficiency  in  this  art.  As  time  went  on 
"the  play-cycles  required,  in  many  cases,  a  larger 
number  of  actors  than  the  ecclesiastical  bodies, 
even  with  the  aid  of  the  wandering  clerks  and 

*  H.  Spencer,  "  Principles  of  Sociology,"  Vol.  Ill,  p.  230.  "Little 
as  one  might  have  expected  it,  we  find  that  the  pagan  genesis  of  the 
drama  was  paralleled  by  the  Christian  re-genesis  of  it  in  Mediaeval 
Europe.  It  commenced  as  in  India,  Greece,  and  Rome,  with  repre- 
sentations of  sacred  subjects  by  priestly  actors.  Incidents  in  sacred 
history  were  dramatically  repeated  in  edifices  devoted  to  divine 
worship." 

'  Chambers,  "The  Mediaeval  Stage,"  Vol.  II,  p.  79. 


PLEASURE   PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE     179 

the  cloister  schools,  could  supply.  It  was  neces- 
sary to  press  the  laity  into  service.  It  was  a 
further  step  in  the  same  direction  when  the  laity 
took  over  the  control  and  financing  of  plays. 
For  this,  one  must  look  mainly  to  that  most 
important  element  in  mediaeval  town  life, 
the  guilds.  Just  as  the  Feast  of  Fools  passed 
from  the  hands  of  the  clergy  into  those  of  the 
societes  joyeuses,  so  did  the  religious  drama  into 
those  of  the  more  serious  confraternities."  ^ 
Small  bands  of  strolling  players  were  formed 
who  wandered  from  place  to  place,  giving  their 
performances  in  the  market  squares  of  the  towns. 
Hence  we  see  that  the  three  most  important 
periods,  for  our  purpose,  in  the  development  of 
the  drama  —  that  is,  the  Savage,  the  Greek,  and 
the  Middle  Ages  —  had  in  their  early  history  a 
strong  religious  idea  which  in  all  but  the  case 
of  Greece  finally  disappeared,  leaving  the  drama 
as  an  institution  of  pleasure.  This  statement 
might  also  be  extended  to  cover  the  drama  of 
Japan,   India   and  Java. 

In  this  connection  Ridgeway  says:  "Thespis 
detached  his  chorus  and  dithyramb  from  some 
particular  shrine,  probably  at  Icaria,  his  native 
place,    and    taking    his    company    with    him    on 

"  Chambers,  Vol.  II,  p.  87. 


i8o    THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

wagons  gave  his  performances  on  his  extem- 
porized stage  when  and  where  he  could  find  an 
audience,  not  for  rehgious  purposes,  but  for  a 
pastime.  Thus  not  merely  by  defining  more 
accurately  the  role  of  the  actor,  but  also  by  lift- 
ing Tragedy  from  being  a  mere  piece  of  religious 
ritual  tied  to  a  particular  spot  into  a  great  form 
of  literature,  he  was  the  true  founder  of  the 
Tragic  art. 

"This  view  offers  a  reasonable  explanation  of 
Solon's  anger  on  first  seeing  Thespis  act.  A 
performance  which  he  would  have  regarded  as 
fit  and  proper  when  enacted  in  some  shrine  of 
the  gods  or  at  a  hero's  tomb,  not  unnaturally 
aroused  his  indignation  when  the  exhibition  was 
merely  for  sport,  as  Thespis  himself  said  (and 
doubtless  also  for  profit),  and  not  at  some  hal- 
lowed spot,  but  in  any  profane  place  where  an 
audience  might  conveniently  be  collected.  It 
may  of  course  be  said  that  the  offence  of  Thespis 
in  Solon's  eyes  consisted  in  the  impersonation  of 
heroes  or  of  gods.  But  it  is  very  likely  that  long 
before  this  time  sacred  dramas  with  impersona- 
tions of  the  gods  were  regularly  performed  in 
temple  precincts,  as,  for  instance,  the  Mystery 
Plays  at  Eleusis,  as  part  of  the  regular  ritual 
of  the  deity. 


PLEASURE   PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE     i8l 

"In  process  of  time  actors  who  had  given  suc- 
cessful performances  of  such  Mystery  and  Miracle 
plays  at  some  church  in  honor  of  some  holy 
personage  and  for  the  edification  of  the  faithful, 
began  to  wander  about  as  strolling  players  ready 
to  perform  their  piece  wherever  they  could 
secure  an  audience,  be  it  sacred  edifice  or  inn- 
yard.  In  so  doing  they  were  transforming  such 
plays  from  being  merely  a  piece  of  religious  ritual 
attached  to  some  particular  shrine  into  a  true 
form  of  dramatic  literature. 

"Nor  is  it  only  in  these  respects  that  the  medi- 
aeval Christian  drama  may  be  compared  with 
that  of  early  Greece.  Not  only  was  the  process 
of  development  similar,  and  not  only  did  each 
arouse  the  same  prejudices  on  the  part  of  the 
more  religious  and  staid  part  of  the  community, 
but  each  sprang  from  the  same  deep-rooted 
principle  —  the  honoring  and  propitiation  of 
the  sacred  dead,  the  hero  and  the  saint  —  and 
as  a  corollary,  even  of  the  gods  themselves. 
As  the  men  of  Sicyon  thought  that  they  pleased 
Adrastus  by  rehearsing  and  representing  his 
sorrows,  so  the  Christian  Church  honored  its 
Divine  Founder  by  continually  keeping  His 
passion  in  remembrance,  as  He  himself  had 
ordained   at  the  Last  Supper. 


1 82    THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

*'The  Roman  Church  still  further  carries 
out  this  same  principle  of  honouring  Christ  by 
exhibiting  the  manger-cradle  and  holy  child 
at  Christmas  and  His  sepulchre  at  Easter.  To 
this  day  when  every  ten  years  the  peasants  of 
Ober-Ammergau  perform  their  Passion  Play, 
they  believe  that  by  this  solemn  representation 
of  the  sufferings  of  Christ  they  are  doing  what 
is   pleasing  in   His  sight. 

"But  if  the  leader  of  that  company  of  peas- 
ant actors  were  to  take  it  to  some  town  or  city 
and  there  perform  the  sacred  drama  in  a  theatre 
for  pastime  and  for  lucre,  the  feeling  of  their 
fellow  villagers,  and,  I  doubt  not,  of  a  far  wider 
community,  would  not  unnaturally  be  much  the 
same  as  those  roused  in  Solon's  breast  by  the 
performance  of  Thespis."  ^ 

As  has  been  said  here  several  times  before, 
the  savage  peoples  who  have  the  greatest  number 
of  dramatic  ceremonies  of  a  religious  character 
are  the  Australians  and  the  American  Indians. 
The  same  statement  holds  true  for  the  number 
of   pleasure    plays. 

Of  all  the  peoples  on  the  North  American  con- 
tinent the  Eskimos  take  part  in  the  fewest 
dramatic  celebrations,  probably  because  of  their 

'  Ridgeway,  "The  Origin  of  Tragedy,"  p.  6l. 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE  183 

hard  struggle  for  existence.  What  plays  they 
have  of  a  pantomimic  nature  show  evidence 
of  an  Indian  influence.^  Among  these  people 
the  dramatic  feeling  has  its  outlet  in  story 
telling,  in  which  the  events  are  graphically 
portrayed.  It  is  here  that  we  see  the  drama  in 
its  elementary  form,  that  is,  before  it  has  taken 
on  a  deeper  religious  purpose.  As  was  shown 
in  Chapter  I,  it  was  out  of  such  crude  attempts 
to  express  ideas  for  which  there  was  an  inade- 
quate spoken  language  that  the  drama  devel- 
oped. Hence  it  is  interesting  to  hnd  among  the 
Eskimos  this  practice  still  carried  out,  although 
their  spoken  language  does  not  need  the  addition 
of  gestures  to  have  their  meaning  clear. 

After  a  hunt  the  hunters  tell  of  their  experi- 
ences to  an  interested  group  of  listeners.  The 
slightest  details  are  gone  into  with  the  greatest 
care  and  precision.  When  telling  of  a  seal  hunt 
the  right  arm  is  raised  as  though  holding  the 
weapon,  while  the  left,  which  is  supposed  to  be 
the  seal,  is  held  straight  in  front.  One  narrator 
said,  "'When  the  time  came  for  using  the  har- 
poon, I  looked  to  it,  I  took  it,  I  seized  it,  I 
gripped  it,  I  had  it  fast  in  my  hand,  I  balanced 
it,    and    so    forth.     This    alone    may    go    on    for 

'  J.  Mooney,  Bureau  of  .American  Ethnology  Bulletin,  I'art  I,  p-jO- 


1 84  THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

several  minutes,  until  at  the  last  the  hand  sinks 
to  represent  the  throw,  and  after  that  they  do 
not  forget  to  make  note  of  the  last  twitches 
given  by  the  seal."  ^ 

In  one  of  the  villages  on  the  lower  Yukon 
two  women  tell  the  history  of  the  past  and 
display  the  arts  of  the  present.  The  first, 
entirely  by  her  gestures,  tells  the  story  of  the 
life  of  her  father  before  the  arrival  of  the  whites. 
She  shows  the  battles  in  which  he  engaged  and 
the  wars  which  took  place  among  the  different 
villages.  ''Motions  of  stealthy  approach  and 
retreat,  then  a  struggle  with  the  enemy  and  the 
flight,  ending  by  a  sudden  turn  and  killing  of 
the  pursuer  by  a  spear  thrust."  The  other 
woman  then  enters  and  shows  by  her  motions 
the  various  occupations  in  which  the  women  take 
part.  During  the  whole  performance  they  keep 
excellent  time  to  the  music. ^ 

Among  all  savage  peoples  the  dance  holds  an 
important  place  in  their  enjoyments.  It  may 
be  divided  into  two  kinds,  the  gymnastic  and 
the  mimetic,^  and  to  the  latter,  in  early  times, 

^  Nansen,  "Eskimo  Life,"  pp.  71  ff. 

*  E.  W.  Nelson,  "Eskimo  about  Bchring  Strait,"  Bureau  of 
Ethnology,  1896-7,  Vol.  I,  p.  356. 

'  E.  Grosse,  "The  Beginnings  of  Art,"  p.  207;  K.  Groos,  "The 
Play  of  Man,"  p.  92;  H.  Ellis,  "The  Philosophy  of  Dancing,"  At- 
lantic Monthly,  Feb.  1914,  pp.  197  ft. 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE  185 

the  drama  was  inclissolubly  joined,  in  fact,  fre- 
quently they  were  ahnost  synonymous.  However, 
in  many  cases  the  dance  was  probably  of  more 
primitive  origin  than  the  drama,  but  at  that 
very  early  period  it  had  no  very  definite  form 
and  consisted  merely  of  jumping  and  hopping 
about.  We  see  evidences  of  this  dance  even 
among  the  animals,  which  proves  that  dancing 
is  older  than  man  himself.  Many  of  the  animals 
dance  their  love  or  rather  dance  before  those 
whom  they  desire.  Here  again  a  parallel  case 
may  be  found  among  savage  peoples,  for  they 
hold  love  dances  at  which  the  young  men  dis- 
play their  beauty  of  form  to  the  admiring  females 
or  the  female  hopes  by  her  skill  to  win  the 
desired  mate.  In  fact,  so  closely  connected  is 
the  dance  with  love  that  among  the  Omahas 
the  same  word  means  to  dance  and  to  love. 
But  only  among  human  beings  do  we  see  the 
dramatic  element  entering  in,  for  with  them 
many  of  the  love  dances  are  of  a  grossly  indecent 
pantomimic  nature,  but  with  the  animals  they 
consist  merely  of  hopping  about  and  displaymg 
themselves  to  each  other.  It  is  more  common 
among  insects  and  birds  than  with  the  larger 
animals.  "The  male  dances,  sometimes  in 
rivalry  with  other  males,  in  order  to  charm   the 


1 86    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

female,  then  after  a  short  or  long  interval,  the 
female  is  roused  to  share  his  ardor  and  join 
in   the  dance."  ^ 

Although  the  dance  is  of  so  primitive  an  origin, 
yet  "it  is  of  importance,  for  it  stands  as  the 
source  of  all  the  arts  that  express  themselves 
first  in  the  human  person."  ^  In  all  probability 
dancing  and  the  drama  joined  early  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  race  and  this  union  came  when  the 
first  pantomime  was  introduced  into  the  crude 
unmeaning  jumping  about  the  campfire.  It 
then  came  about  that  the  stories  of  the  hunts 
were  partially  danced,  those  taking  part  going 
through  the  pantomime  of  killing  the  animals. 
Their  legends  and  myths  of  the  past  had  many 
scenes  in  which  the  story  was  told  by  the  move- 
ments of  the  dancing  figures. 

One  of  the  simplest  and  most  primitive  pleas- 
ure dances  is  found  in  Australia.  It  is  a  canoe 
dance  and  might  almost  appear  in  one  of  our 
modern  comic  operas.  **Both  men  and  women 
take  part  in  this  dance,  painting  their  bodies  with 
white  and  red  ochre,  each  furnished  with  a  stick 
which  represents  a  paddle.     They  begin  to  dance 

'  Havelock    Ellis,    "The    Philosophy    of    Dancing,"    Atlantic 
Monthly,  Feb.  1914,  p.  200. 
*  Ibid.,  p.  197. 


PLEASURE   PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE     187 

by  stationing  themselves  in  two  lines,  but  with 
the  stick  across  their  backs  and  held  by  the 
arms,  while  they  move  their  feet  alternately  to 
the  time  of  the  song  with  which  the  dance  is 
accompanied.  At  a  given  signal  they  all  bring 
the  sticks  to  the  front,  and  hold  them  as  they  do 
paddles,  swaying  themselves  in  regular  time  as  if 
they  were  paddling  in  one  of  their  light  canoes."  ' 
In  Africa  we  find  that  there  are  few  pleasure 
performances  which  can  truly  be  called  dramatic 
and  only  seldom  out  of  their  many  dances  can 
one  be  found  in  which  even  a  simple  incident 
is  carried  through  to  a  conclusion.  There  are 
hardly  any  people  who  enjoy  the  dance  as  do  the 
Africans,  and  most  of  their  performances  imitate 
the  movements  of  animals,-  but  they  do  little 
besides  the  mere  jumping  or  hopping  around, 
that  is,  performing  the  gymnastic  dance.  All 
events,  such  as  births,  marriages,  and  deaths, 
are  occasions  for  dances  and  "no  noonday  sun 
is  too  hot  and  no  rain  too  heavy  to  cause  zeal 
to    flag    or    damp    the    ardour    of   the    people."  ^ 

■  Smyth,  "Aborigines  of  Victoria,"  Vol.  I,  pp.  174  ff  ;  .1-  (»• 
Wood,  "Natural  History  of  Man,"  Vol.  II,  p.  65. 

*  J.  H.  Weeks,  ".Among  the  Congo  Canibals,"  p.  157;  H.  H. 
Johnston,  "Uganda,"  Vol.  II,  p.  779;  G.  W.  Stow,  "The  Native 
Races  of  South  Africa,"  pp.  1 16  ff. 

'  P.  T.  Talbot,  "  In  the  Shadow  of  the  Bush,"  pp.  293  ff. 


1 88    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

One  dance  which  is  an  exception  to  the  above 
statement  occurs  among  the  Damaras,  where  a 
victorious  war  party,  represented  by  the  fighting 
men  of  the  village,  are  welcomed  on  their  return 
by  a  chorus  of  women.  During  the  dance  the 
men  occasionally  drive  back  any  of  the  supposed 
enemies  who  have  the  audacity  to  approach 
them.^  The  Bushmen  have  a  baboon  dance  in 
which  the  performers  imitate  the  actions  and 
grimaces  of  baboons,  jumping,  gambolling  and 
running  around  on  all  fours  like  a  troop  of 
excited    monkeys.^ 

1  J.  S.  Wood,  "Natural  History  of  Man,"  Vol.  I,  p.  348. 

2  G.  W.  Stow,  "The  Native  Races  of  South  Africa,"  pp.  116  fF. 
Wallaschek,  "Primitive  Music,"  p.  216;  Reade,  "Savage  Africa," 
p.  195- 

"It  is  quite  possible  that  some  of  these  dances  may  have  had,  at 
one  time,  a  mythical  signification  attached  to  them,  which  would 
only  be  understood  by  the  initiated.  This  idea  is  suggested  by  a 
myth  which  Mr.  Joseph  M.  Orpen  obtained  from  a  Maluti  Bushman 
named  'Qing  (King  Bleelc)  who  said  Cagn  (the  'Kaang  of  Arbousset 
and  Callaway  and  kaggen  of  Bleek)  sent  Cogaz  to  cut  sticks  to  make 
bows.  When  Cogaz  came  to  the  bush  the  baboons  (cogn)  caught  him. 
They  called  all  the  other  baboons  to  hear  him  and  they  asked  him 
who  sent  him  there.  He  said  his  father  sent  him  to  cut  sticks  to 
make  bows.  So  they  said,  'Your  father  thinks  himself  more  clever 
than  we  are,  and  he  wants  those  bows  to  kill  us,  so  we'll  kill  you,' 
and  they  killed  Cogaz,  and  tied  him  up  in  the  top  of  a  tree,  and 
they  danced  round  the  tree,  singing  (an  intranscribable  baboon 
song)  with  a  chorus  saying  'Cagn  thinks  he  is  clever.'  Cagn  was 
asleep  when  Cogaz  was  killed,  but  when  he  awoke  he  told  Coti  to 
give  him  his  charms,  and  he  put  some  on  his  nose,  and  said,  the 
baboons  have  hung  Cogaz.  So  he  went  to  where  the  baboons  were 
and  when  they  saw  him  coming  close  by,  they  changed  their  song 


PLEASURE   PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE    189 

One  dance  of  the  Eskimos,  which  occurs  among 
the  Columbians  in  a  more  developed  form,  is 
participated  in  by  the  young  nen,  who,  stripped 
to  the  waist,  go  through  burlesque  imitations 
of  beasts  and  birds.  Their  movements  are  in 
time  to  the  beating  of  a  tambourine  and  to  the 
singing  of  the  people.  Other  pantomimic  dances 
portray  love,  hate,  jealousy  and  friendship.' 
Little  comment  is  needed  here  to  show  that 
these  dramatic  dances  are  of  so  simple  a  char- 
acter that  they  belong  to  the  lowest  stages  of 
the    drama.     For    this    reason    they    are    of    the 

so  as  to  omit  the  words  about  Cagn,  but  a  little  baboon  girl 
said,  'Don't  sing  that  way,  sing  the  way  you  were  singing  be- 
fore.' And  Cagn  said,  'Sing  as  the  little  girl  wishes,'  and  they 
sang  and  danced  as  before.  And  Cagn  said,  'That  is  the  song  I 
heard,  that  is  what  I  wanted,  go  on  dancing  until  I  return';  and 
he  went  and  fetched  a  bag  full  of  pegs,  and  went  behind  each  of 
them  as  they  were  dancing  and  making  a  great  dust,  and  he  drove  a 
peg  into  each  one's  back,  and  gave  it  a  crack,  and  sent  them  off  to 
the  mountains  to  live  on  roots,  beetles,  and  scorpions,  as  a  punish- 
ment. Bfjore  that  baboons  were  men,  but  since  that  they  have  tails, 
and  their  tails  hang  crooked.  Then  Cagn  took  Cogaz  down,  and 
gave  him  Canna,  and  made  him  alive  again.'  From  the  above  it  is 
quite  possible  that  this  dance  may  have  been  instituted  in  honor  of 
some  festival  dedicated  to  ' Kaang  or  his  son.  'Qing  informed  Mr.  J. 
Orpen  that  there  were  certain  dances  which  only  certain  men  were 
allowed  to  dance:  men  who  had  been  initiated,  and  understood  the 
meaning  0}  them.     Some  of  these  animal  dances  may  belong  to  this 

class." 

>  H.  H.  Bancroft,  "Native  Races  of  the  Pacific  States,"  Vol.  I, 
p.  67;  E.  Grosse,  "Beginnings  of  Art,"  pp.  207  ff.;  W.  I.  Thomas, 
"Source  Book  for  Social  Origins,"  p.  584;  E.W.Nelson,  Eskimo 
about  Bchring  Strait."  Bur.  of  Ethn.  1896-7,  Vol.  I,  p.  356. 


190    THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

utmost  importance  to  our  study,  for  it  is  prob- 
able that  if  we  knew  the  early  history  of  all 
savage  peoples  we  should  find  these  little  bits 
of  dramatic  art  which  appear  among  the  Eskimos 
of  to-da}'.  It  would  be  difficult  to  say  why  these 
people  of  the  north  have  not  advanced  to  a 
higher  stage  in  this  art,  but  the  fact  that  they 
are  living  on  the  edge  of  subsistence,  that  the 
population  is  small,  and  that  the  religious  totem 
idea  plays  a  very  small  part  in  their  lives,  may 
in  some  measure  account  for  it.  It  has  prob- 
ably been  noticed  that  no  people  have  a  well- 
developed  drama  of  pleasure  who  have  not  had 
the  dramatic  religious  ceremonies.  This  cir- 
cumstance is  not  alone  confined  to  the  savages 
but  also  appeared  among  the  Greeks  and  in  the 
Middle  Ages.  Hence  when  we  find  a  people 
in  whose  lives  religion  does  not  now  play  or  has 
not  in  the  past  played  a  dominant  part,  we  are 
pretty  safe  in  concluding  that  they  have  few 
pleasure   plays. 

Two  types  of  dramatic  dance  which  we  have 
noticed  as  being  very  common  among  many 
peoples  of  the  world  are:  first,  that  of  mimick- 
ing the  actions  of  animals  either  in  the  hunt  or 
merely  alone  in  their  native  habitat,  and,  second, 
that   of  showing   the   different   scenes    from   the 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE  191 

daily  life  of  the  people,  such  as  fishing,  hunting, 
and  agriculture.  These  same  ideas  are  carried 
out  in  the  little  pleasure  plays  of  the  American 
Indians.  The  Skanlet  tribes  of  British  Columbia 
have  a  fish-hawk  dance  in  which  the  movements 
of  the  bird  are  carefully  portrayed.^  The  Hill 
tribes  of  North  Aracan  have  a  hunting  dance,^ 
and  the  Indians  of  California  enact  scenes  of 
hunting  and  warfare  in  which  the  old  women 
assisted  the  men  to  carry  off  the  game  or  to 
dispatch  the  wounded  enemies.  Similar  dances 
take  place  among  the  Pueblo  Indians,  and  among 
the   Isthmus    tribes.^ 

After  the  actual  dance,  the  next  most  devel- 
oped form  of  the  drama  appears  in  the  crude 
animal  imitations  and  in  the  portrayal  of  the 
relation  of  man  to  his  animal  environment. 

We  have  seen  how  important  a  part  ceremonies 
play  in  the  life  of  the  Australians,  especially 
those  dealing  with  the  food  supply;  thus  it  is 
only  natural  that  when  these  people  are  seeking 
pleasure,  they  should  turn  to  these  to  find  it. 
The  inhabitants  of  this  country  are  of  a  cheerful 
disposition    and    very    fond    of    a     joke,    hence 

>  C.  H.  Tout,  "Streclis  and  Skaiilets  Tribes  of  British  Columbia," 
34  J.  A.  I.,  p.  329. 

*  St.  John,  "  Hill  Tribes  of  North  Aracan,"  2  J.  A.  I.,  p.  239. 

•  Bancroft,  be.  cit..  Vol.  I,  pp.  393,  411,  551,  774- 


192    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

many  of  the  plays  consist  of  a  burlesque  of 
the  more  serious  hunting  rites.  In  one  witnessed 
by  Mr.  Howitt,  two  old  men  were  seen  standing 
back  of  the  fire  at  the  edge  of  the  cleared  space. 
In  the  darkness  of  the  forest  on  the  other  side 
were  dimly  discernible  the  rest  of  the  men 
crouching  together.  They  were  the  "Rock 
Wallabies."  An  old  man  came  out  and  drove 
the  "animals"  past  the  other  man,  who  was 
supposed  to  knock  each  one  over  with  his  stick 
as  it  went  by.  This  represented  a  real  Rock 
Wallaby  hunt,  where  the  animals  are  driven 
past  the  hunters  who  are  in  ambush.  This 
pantomime  was  intended  to  be  comic,  for  the 
man  always  missed  the  animals  and  for  this 
reason  was  much  abused  by  the  others.^  In 
another  dance  on  the  same  island  the  men  hump 
around,  mimicking  the  motions  of  a  sacred  troop 
of  the  marsupial  brutes  and  in  so  doing  cause 
the    audience   much    merriment.^ 

In  the  Philippine  Islands  the  following  little 
comedy  was  witnessed  by  M.  de  la  Gironiere. 
"A  wanderer  appears  who  is  overcome  with 
fatigue    and    half-starved.     All    at    once    he    dis- 

'  A.  W.  Howitt,  "Australian  Ceremonies,"  13  J.  A.  I.,  p.  449. 

*  Smyth,  "Aborigines  of  Victoria,"  Vol.  I,  p.  173;  George  Toplin, 
"The  Narrinyeri,"  1874;  Wood,  "Natural  History  of  Man,"  Vol. 
n,  pp.  62  fF.;   Dawson,  "Australian  Aborigines,"  p.  84. 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE    193 

covers  a  bee-hive  full  of  honey.  Delighted  with 
this  lucky  discovery,  he  looks  forward  to  sat- 
isfying his  appetite  on  the  delicate  fare.  He 
sets  fire  to  some  twigs  and  sneaks  up  on  tiptoe 
to  the  hive.  First  he  burns  himself,  then  his 
throat  is  filled  with  smoke,  and  at  last  he  is 
attacked  by  the  bees  who  are  heard  humming 
all  round,  while  the  man  fights  about  in  a  lu- 
dicrous manner  expressive  of  the  pain  caused 
by  their  sting."  ^ 

In  the  dances  or  dramatic  performances  of 
the  Papuans  of  New  Guinea  there  are  enacted 
scenes  from  everyday  life  in  which  the  mimetic 
hunting  of  the  animals,  the  actions  of  the  ani- 
mals among  themselves  in  the  woods  or  on 
the  plains,  and  the  domestic  scenes  around  the 
camp  are  carefully  portrayed.'-  These  very  simple 
pantomimic  dances  in  which  there  is  no  deeper 
purpose  than  enjoyment  were  probably  indulged 
in  at  a  very  early  stage  in  the  development  of 
the  race  and  many  of  them  have  retained  their 
original    simple    character.     They    form    an    ini- 

'  De  la  Gironiere,  "Adventures  d'un  Gentilhomme  breton  aux 
lies  Philippines,"  quoted  by  K.  Mantzius,  "A  History  of  Theatrical 
Art,"  Vol.  I,  p.  23. 

»  KrieRcr,  "Neu-Guinca,"  pp.  210  If.;  Wallaschek,  "Primitive 
Music,"  p.  218.  The  same  kind  of  mimetic  dances  are  held  on  the 
Murray  Islands.     Haddon,  "Head  Hunters,"  p.  114. 


194    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

portant  addition  to  a  study  of  this  sort,  for  in 
them  we  see  one  of  the  early  expressions  of  the 
imitative  desire  of  man,  and  they  form  a  step- 
ping stone  to  an  understanding  of  the  higher 
dramatic  art  which  appears  among  the  savage 
peoples. 

Of  the  performances  in  North  America  in 
which  the  animals  are  represented,  that  of  the 
Seal  Dance  is  the  commonest.  The  3^oung  men 
strip,  and  though  it  may  be  a  cold  night,  they 
go  out  of  the  house  and  throw  themselves  into 
the  water.  Soon  they  reappear,  dragging  their 
bodies  over  the  sands  as  do  the  seals.  When 
they  enter  the  house  they  flop  around  the  fires 
for  a  while  and  then  they  get  up  and  dance. ^ 
In  one  performance  they  illuminate  a  wax  moon 
out  on  the  water  and  then  pretend  to  be  con- 
versing with  the  man  who  is  supposed  to  dwell 
there. 

In  South  America,  among  the  less  civilized 
tribes,  we  find  the  enjoyment  of  imitation  as 
strongly  developed  as  in  any  other  quarter  of  the 
globe.  The  mosquito  tribes  of  Honduras,^  and 
the   Indians  of  Guiana  ^  all   have   animal   dances 

*  Brown,  "The  Races  of  Mankind,"  Vol.  I,  pp.  35  fF.;  Bancroft, 
loc.  cit.,  Vol.  I,  p.  200. 

*  Bancroft,  loc.  cit.,  Vol.  I,  p.  736. 

'  Wallaschek,  "Primitive  Music,"  p.  220. 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE    195 

in  which  very  clever  mimicry  is  carried  out, 
some  of  the  performers  dressing  in  the  skins  of 
the  animals  better  to  personate  them. 

Among  the  Fuegians  the  ancient  initiation 
lodge  "'etait  aussi  le  theatre  de  scenes  mystcri- 
euses,  bizarres,  d'origine  tres  ancienne,  dont  les 
roles,  autrefois  tenus  par  les  femmes,  avaient 
ete  ensuite  exclusivement  devolvus  aux  hommes. 
Ceux-ci,  diversement  grimes,  babrouilles  de  sang 
tire  de  leurs  propres  veines,  le  visage  cache  par 
des  bonnets  en  ecorce,  sortaient  de  la  kiiia  en 
file  indienne,  sautant  ou  chantant,  poussant 
des  cris  sauvages,  et  cherchant  a  se  rendre  aussi 
effrayants  que  possible.  Les  femmes  et  les 
enfants  n'etaient  pas  admis  dans  Finterieur 
de  la  ki7ia,  mais  se  pla^aient  au  dehors  en 
spectateurs,  manifestaient  leur  contentement  par 
des  cris  de  frayeur,  alternant  avec  des  eclats  de 
gaiete,  et  chantaient  en  meme  temps  que  les 
hommes,  mais  sans  jamais  se  meler  a  eux. 
Trois  des  acteurs  jouaient  un  role  particulier; 
Fun  etait  suppose  venir  du  fond  de  la  mer,  le 
second  de  Finterieur  de  la  terre  et  le  troisiemc 
de  Fepaisseur  des  forets.  II  n'y  avait  dans 
tout  cela,  aucune  idee  propitiatoire  envers  un 
etre  superieur,  mais  simplement  Fintention  de 
s'amuser  par  le  spectacle   lui-meme.'     The   Cai- 


196    THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

shana,  a  Brazilian  tribe  on  the  Tunantins  river, 
retain  their  masked  dances  in  honor  of  the  Juru- 
pari  demon.  Among  the  Tucunas  the  masked 
dances  are  now  semi-festivals,  while  among  the 
more  civilized  Egas  of  Northwestern  Brazil  the 
masked  dances  are  nothing  but  theatrical  per- 
formances." ^ 

Many  of  the  pleasure  plays  of  the  Australians 
correspond  closely  to  the  comic  opera  of  civilized 
peoples,  for  they  have  not  only  the  main  dancers 
and  singers,  but  also  the  chorus,  who  in  many 
cases  mimic  various  animals,  such  as  the  emu 
and  the  kangaroo. 

Captain  Cook  in  his  voyage  through  the  South 
Seas  tells  as  follows  of  a  dramatic  performance 
which  he  and  his  men  witnessed  on  the  Mattair 
Bay  Island.  "As  soon  as  dinner  was  over, 
which  admits  of  no  ceremony,  we  were  con- 
ducted to  the  theatre,  where  a  company  of 
players  were  in  readiness  to  perform  a  dramatical 
entertainment.  The  drama  was  regularly  divided 
into  three  acts:  the  first  consisted  of  dancing 
and  dumb  show;  the  second  of  comedy;  which 
to  those  who  understood  the  language  was  very 

^  Webster,  "Primitive  Secret  Societies,"  pp.  176-7,  quoting  from 
"Mission  Scientifique  du  Cap  Horn,"  (Paris,  1891),  Vol.  VII,  p.  377, 
and  H.  W.  Bates,  "The  Naturalist  on  the  River  Amazon,"  Vol.  II, 
p.  376. 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE  197 

laughable,  as  Omai  and  the  native  appeared 
highly  diverted  the  whole  time;  the  last  was  a 
musical  piece,  in  which  the  young  princesses 
were  the  sole   performers."  ^ 

According  to  Hutton  Webster,  many  of  the 
secret  societies  which  heretofore  had  a  very 
definite  religious  purpose  to  perform  and  into 
which  the  boys  were  initiated  with  great  cere- 
mony have  become  merely  dramatic  societies 
and  their  secret  houses,  into  which  none  but 
the  initiated  could  be  admitted,  have  been  turned 
into  the  theatre  for  the  town.^  In  the  Congo 
region  of  Africa,  when  a  boy  wishes  to  enter  one 
of  these  quasi-dramatic  societies,  he  is  given  a 
sleeping  potion.  He  then  swoons  in  some  public 
assemblage  and  is  at  once  surrounded  by  the 
fetish  man  and  his  assistants,  who  carry  him  away 
into  an  enclosure.  The  people  are  told  that  he 
is  dead  and  that  he  has  gone  to  the  spirit  world, 
but  that  through  the  power  of  the  fetish  man 
he  will  return.^  A  close  analogy  exists  between 
this  rite  and  the  one  which  takes  place  among 
some  of  the  American  Indian  tribes  where  it 
is  supposed  that  at  the  time  of  puberty  the  totem 

*  Cook,  "Voyages,"  pp.  142. 

*  Webster,  "Primitive  Secret  Societies,"  pp.  160  ff. 

'  Webster,  "Primitive  Secret  Societies,"  pp.  173  ff.;  Glave,  "Six 
Years  of  Adventure  in  Congo  Land,"  p.  80. 


198    THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

carries  the  boy's  soul  away  and  gives  him  a  new 
one.^  Other  societies  with  their  httle  plays 
wander  from  place  to  place  giving  their  per- 
formances as  did  the  strolling  players  of  the 
Middle   Ages. 

A  very  good  example  of  the  loss  of  the  reli- 
gious idea  in  the  pleasure  plays  occurs  in  New 
Pomerania.  There  the  Duk-Duk  Society,  which 
in  an  earlier  chapter  we  saw  was  seriously  used 
during  the  initiation  of  the  boys  and  at  other 
important  seasons,  loses  this  character  entirely 
and  appears  merely  as  a  dramatic  organization. 
The  members  give  dramatic  representations  often 
lasting  for  months  in  which  two  masked  figures, 
the  Duk-Duk  and  his  wife,  Tuburan,  are  the 
leading  actors.  The  little  troupe  travel  from 
village  to  village,  giving  their  plays  before  native 
audiences. 

A  tragic  performance  which  has  as  its  basis 
the  ceremonial  killing  of  a  boy  appears  among 
the  Aht  Indians  in  Northwestern  America, 
although  the  serious  purpose  for  which  it  was 
originally  performed  has  entirely  vanished.  A 
youth  comes  on  the  stage  with  his  hands  tied 
behind  his  back  by  means  of  long  cords,  the 
ends  of  which   are  held   by  men  who   drag  him 

'  See  Chapter  IV,  on  Initiation  Ceremonies. 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE  199 

about.  Suddenly  the  chief,  armed  with  a  long 
knife,  appears.  This  he  plunges  into  the  youth's 
back  several  times  until  the  victim,  covered 
with  blood,  staggers  and  falls  lifeless.  The  rest 
of  the  actors  carry  the  body  outside.  When 
away  from  view  of  the  spectators  the  "corpse" 
washes  itself  and  puts  on  its  blanket.  The  knife 
that  was  used  has  a  blade  which  sinks  into  the 
handle  when  it  strikes  any  object,  and  the 
"blood"  is  a  mixture  of  red  gum,  resin,  oil  and 
water,  which  was  carried  in  the  mouth  of  the 
victim.  Throughout  the  whole  performance  the 
spectators  sing  and   beat  time  on  drums. ^ 

One  play  which  takes  place  among  the  Indians 
of  the  Aleutian  Islands  is  deserving  of  more 
than  a  passing  reference,  because  of  its  world- 
v/ide  popularity.  A  hunter  goes  forth  in  the 
quest  of  game  and  seeing  a  beautiful  bird  shoots 
it.  The  bird,  however,  suddenly  revives  and 
turns  into  a  lovely  woman  with  whom  he  at 
once  falls  in  love.^  There  are  few  countries 
in  the  world  in  which  this  myth  or  fairy  story 
does  not  appear  in  some  form,  hut  of  all  savage 
peoples  the  Aleuts  are  the  only  ones  who  have 

'  Brown,"  The  R.Tcesof.VIankind."  Vol.  I.,  p.  38;  Bancroft, /or. n/., 
Vol.  I,  p.  200;  Wood,  "Natural  History  of  Man,"  Vol.  II,  pp.  737  ff. 

*  Wallasohek,  "Primitive  Music,"  p.  226;  H.  H.  Bancroft, 
"Native  Races  of  the  Pacific  States,"  Vol.  I,  p.  93. 


200    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

put  it  into  dramatic  form.  Among  the  Eskimos 
the  story  runs  that  a  wise  and  beautiful  maiden 
did  something  to  incur  the  enmity  of  a  powerful 
wicked  fairy  and  was  immediately  changed  into 
an  owl.^  In  Russia  a  youth  is  about  to  shoot 
a  swan  when  the  bird  prays  him  to  desist. 
Suddenly  it  rises  from  the  sea  and  turns  into  a 
maiden  whom  the  youth  weds.^  A  very  similar 
tale  is  told  by  the  Arawaks  of  Guiana  and  by  the 
Algonquins.^  It  is  impossible  to  go  into  the 
study  of  bird-lore  and  to  show  how  closely 
wrapped  up  with  the  totem  the  whole  idea  has 
become.^  For  our  purpose  here  it  is  merely  to 
be  noticed  in  the  example  given  that  the  subject- 
matter  of  the  play,  which  at  one  time  was  prob- 
ably religious,  is  similar  to  that  scene  in  the 
children's  plays  of  to-day.  The  dramatization 
of  Little  Red  Riding  Hood,  Jack  and  the  Bean 
Stalk,  and  Cinderella  is  in  exactly  the  same  class 
as  that  of  the  myth  of  the  Hunter  and  the  Bird, 
which  is  enjoyed  so  much  by  the  Indians  of 
the  Aleutian  Islands. 

1  M.  C.  Walker,  "Bird   Legend   and  Life,"  p.  5.     Ophelia   says 
(Hamlet,  Act  IV,  scene  V),  "They  say  theowl  was  a  baker's  daughter." 

*  E.  S.  Hartland,  "The  Science  of  Fairy  Tales,"  p.  259. 
'  Ibid.,  pp.  261,  268. 

*  For  a  full  discussion  of  bird-lore,  see   Charles  de   Kay,  "Bird 
Gods." 


PLEASURE   PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE    201 

The  Buffalo  dance  of  the  Iroquois  is  based 
on  an  old  legend.  It  started  during  a  warlike 
expedition  of  the  Iroquois  against  the  Cherokees. 
When  the  attacking  party  had  reached  the 
Kentucky  "salt  lick,"  they  heard  the  buffaloes 
"singing  their  favorite  songs,  bellowing  and 
grumbling."  From  all  this  noise  the  Iroquois 
made  up  their  music  and  from  the  actions  of 
the  buffalo   they   constructed   their   dance. ^ 

Some  of  the  savage  peoples  have  more  or 
less  elaborate  stages  and  settings  for  their  per- 
formances. Among  many  tribes  in  North  Amer- 
ica, for  instance,  drama  for  pleasure  has  reached 
such  a  high  plane  that  they  possess  many  of  the 
stage  properties  and  accessories  used  by  those 
with  a  very  much  higher  degree  of  culture.  At 
one  end  of  a  big  hall  a  curtain  is  hung  in  order 
to  conceal  the  preparations  which  are  being 
made.  The  actors  make  their  entrances  and 
exits  through  concealed  openings  in  the  painted 
back  wall.  On  the  stage  itself,  which  in  the 
majority  of  cases  is  not  raised,  are  placed  effigies 
and  other  paraphernalia  which  will  add  to  the 
reality  of  the  scenes  portrayed.  The  subject- 
matter  of  the  plays  is  varied  and  includes  his- 
torical or  mythical  events,  parts  of  the  cultural 

*  Morgan,  "  League  of  Iroquois,"  Vol.  I,  p.  276. 


202    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

history,  and  many  of  the  everyday  occurrences, 
such  as  hunting  and  fishing  trips,  and  episodes 
from  the  various  wars.  The  actors  impersonate 
not  only  the  gods  and  heroes,  but  also  the  animals 
of  the  hunt.  Nearly  all  of  the  dramatic  presen- 
tations are  accompanied  by  singing  and  dancing.^ 
One  of  the  most  complicated  and  dramatic 
performances  of  the  North  American  Indians 
is  held  among  the  Hopi  Indians  during  the 
March  moon,  and  deals  v^'ith  the  Great  Serpent, 
called  PaliJlakonti.  This  performance,  which 
is  one  of  many  similar  performances,  at  one  time 
had  a  religious  motive,  but  now  this  has  been 
lost  in  the  more  predominant  dramatic  element. 
This  drama  of  the  Great  Serpent  takes  place 
simultaneously  in  six  or  seven  kivas,  the  actors 
passing  from  one  to  the  other.  In  each  kiva  by 
the  fireplace  in  the  centre  of  the  room  sit  two 
old  men  who  continually  feed  the  fire  with  small 
pieces  of  wood.  These  men  also  have  big 
blankets  which  they  hold  over  the  fire  at  the 
entrance  of  the  actors  so  that  the  stage  may  be 
set  without  being  seen  by  the  audience.  The 
play  consists  of  six  acts  which  seem  to  be  largely 
dissociated  from  each  other. 

1  Bureau  of  Ethnology  Bulletin,  30,  Part  I,  p.  400;  H.H.Bancroft, 
loc.  cit.,  Vol.  I,  p.  200;  Jewitt,  "Narratives,"  p.  389. 


PLEASURE   PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE    203 

At  the  beginning  of  the  first  act,  as  the  play 
was  observed,  a  voice  was  heard  outside  of  the 
hatchway  asking  for  admittance.  Having  been 
told  to  enter  by  the  old  men,  the  actors  slowly 
descend  the  ladder.  At  this  moment  the  old 
men  stood  up  and  covered  the  light  of  the  fire 
with  their  blankets.  The  actors,  who  were 
masked,  had  with  them  long  poles  on  which  was 
a  cloth  screen,  or  drop  curtain,  and  under  their 
blankets  various  other  objects  which  were  to 
be  used.  When  the  stage  was  set,  the  blankets 
were  dropped  and  the  following  scene  was  pre- 
sented  to  the   audience. 

On  the  floor  was  set  up  a  miniature  field  of 
corn  made  of  small  clay  pedestals  with  sprouts 
of  corn  projecting  from  them.  Behind  this 
hung  the  decorated  cloth  screen  which  reached 
from  one  side  of  the  room  to  the  other  and 
nearly  to  the  top  rafters.  On  this  were  painted 
various  designs  and  symbols  such  as  human 
beings,  birds,  rain  clouds,  lightning,  and  falling 
rain.  About  two  feet  from  the  bottom  was  a 
row  of  six  circular  disks,  the  borders  of  which 
were  made  with  plaited  corn  husks,  while  in  the 
middle  of  each  was  a  picture  of  the  sun.  The 
screen  was  upheld  on  each  side  by  men  wearing 
masks.     On   each   side  of  the  screen  stood   men 


204    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

wearing  grotesque  masks  and  short  ceremonial 
kilts.  One  of  these  men  was  dressed  as  a 
woman  who  carried  in  her  hand  a  basket  of 
meal  and  an  ear  of  corn.  The  play  began  with 
a  song  and  dance  in  which  all  but  the  last 
mentioned  man  took  part.  Suddenly  a  hoarse 
roar,  made  by  one  of  the  concealed  actors 
blowing  through  a  gourd,  resounded  from  behind 
the  screen,  and  immediately  the  circular  disks 
opened  outward.  These  were  seen  to  be  flaps 
which  covered  orifices  out  of  which  simulta- 
neously protruded  six  artificial  heads  of  serpents 
realistically  painted.  Each  had  enormous  pro- 
truding goggle  eyes  and  on  the  head,  a  curved 
horn,  back  of  which  was  a  row  of  feathers. 
These  effigies  were  thrust  gradually  into  view 
until  they  revealed  four  or  five  feet  of  painted 
body.  As  they  reached  their  fullest  extent  the 
song  became  louder  and  louder.  The  effigies 
moved  back  and  forth,  raising  and  lowering  their 
heads  in  time  to  the  music.  They  seemed  to 
be  biting  ferociously  at  each  other  and  viciously 
darting  at  the  men  standing  near  the  screen. 
This  continued  for  a  while  until  suddenly  the 
heads  of  the  serpents  bent  down  to  the  floor, 
across  the  imitation  corn  field,  knocking  over 
the  clay  pedestals  and  the  corn  leaves  which  they 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE  205 

supported.  Shortly  after  this  the  song  became  less 
in  volume,  the  effigies  slowly  withdrew  through 
the  openings,  the  flaps  descended,  the  roar  behind 
the  screen  ceased,  the  fire  was  covered  up  by 
the   old  men,  and  the   first   act  was  over. 

In  the  second  act  a  Buffalo  Dance  took  place. 
Several  men  wearing  helmets  supposed  to  repre- 
sent the  heads  of  the  buffalo  and  having  on 
their  backs  shaggy  skins  in  order  to  better  com- 
plete the  realistic  picture,  carried  in  their  hands 
zigzag  pieces  of  wood  which  were  supposed  to 
be  symbolic  of  lightning.  These  imitation  buf- 
faloes were  accompanied  by  a  masked  man  and 
boy  representing  eagles.  These  danced  before 
the  buffalo,  uttering  calls  in  imitation  of  birds. 

In  the  third  act  a  somewhat  elaborate  dance 
was  carried  out  by  a  masked  woman  who  repre- 
sented the  Spider  Woman  whom  we  have  noticed 
earlier  in  the  myth  of  the  Snake-Antelope 
fraternities. 

The  fourth  act  opened  by  a  man  wearing  a 
very  shabby  mask  and  bearing  a  heavy  bundle 
on  his  back  slowly  coming  down  the  ladder. 
He  pretended  to  slip  on  each  rung,  but  caught 
himself  before  falling,  and  eventually  reached 
the  bottom  without  accident.  He  opened  his 
bundle  and  took  out  a  nictate  and  a  meal  grind- 


2o6   THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

ing  stone  which  he  arranged  on  the  floor  before 
the  fireplace.  A  second  man  with  a  hke  bundle 
did  the  same,  the  two  men  seating  themselves 
by  the  fire.  Next  two  girls  entered  and  knelt 
by  the  stones,  and  facing  the  fire  assumed  the 
positions  of  girls  when  grinding  corn.  Then 
entered  the  chorus,  made  up  of  a  procession  of 
masked  men  who  filed  around  the  room  and 
halted  in  line  behind  the  kneeling  girls.  As 
soon  as  these  latter  were  in  position,  they  began 
to  dance  a  solemn  dance  and  to  sing  an  accom- 
panying song.  The  girls  kept  time  to  the  song 
by  rubbing  the  mealing  stones  back  and  forth 
over  the  metates  and  the  kneeling  men  clapped 
their  hands  in  time  to  the  music.  This  con- 
tinued for  a  while,  then  the  girls  arose  and 
danced  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  posturing 
their  bodies  and  extending  their  hands  in  which 
they  carried  the  ears  of  corn. 

The  fifth  act  was  in  many  ways  similar  to 
the  first,  with  the  exception  of  the  fact  that  the 
men  tried  to  wrestle  with  the  serpents  and  were 
in  each  case  overcome. 

In  the  last  act  the  serpent  eflSgies  again 
appeared,  only  this  time  out  of  two  large  jugs. 
They  waved  their  heads  around,  knocked  over 
the   corn    field,  struggled    with    each    other,  and 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE  207 

finally  disappeared  back  into  the  jugs.  The 
movements  of  these  snakes  were  carried  on  by 
invisible  wires  which  were  strung  to  the  top  of 
the  kiva   and  operated  by  hidden   performers. 

During  some  years  there  are  as  many  as  nine 
acts  performed  instead  of  six.  Sometimes  the 
screen  performance  is  accompanied  by  an  exhi- 
bition by  a  masked  man  or  men  who  pretend 
to  struggle  with  the  snake  effigy  which  they 
carry  in  their  arms.  This  performance  consists 
mainly  in  twisting  these  effigies  about  the  body 
and  neck  of  the  performer.  The  serpent  effi- 
gies in  this  incident  were  manipulated  by  one 
arm  of  the  actor  which  was  concealed  in  the 
body  of  the  serpent,  but  a  false  arm  is  tied  to 
the  shoulder  in  place  of  the  hidden  arm  to  de- 
ceive the  spectators. 

Frequently  in  the  fourth  act,  in  place  of  the 
two  girls  grinding  corn,  they  have  marionettes 
who  represent  the  corn  maidens.  These  two 
figures  are  seated  by  the  fire  and  are  skilfully 
manipulated  by  wires  going  to  a  concealed  man. 
All  the  motions  of  the  living  girls  are  gone 
through  by  these  little  figures,  even  to  the  rub- 
bing of  the  meal  on  the  face,  which  is  done 
frequently   by    the   grinders.' 

'  See  drama  of  Java,  Wilken,  "N'olkenlcunde." 


2o8    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

The  substitution  of  marionettes  for  masked 
girls  suggests  an  explanation  of  the  use  of  idols 
among  the  Hopi.  A  supernatural  being  of  the 
Hopi  Olympus  may  be  represented  in  ceremony 
or  drama  by  a  man  wearing  a  mask,  or  by  a 
graven  image  or  picture,  a  symbol  of  the  same. 
Sometimes  one,  sometimes  the  other  method  of 
personating  the  god  is  employed,  and  often 
both.  In  the  latter  method  the  image  may  be 
used  on  the  altar,  while  the  masked  man  appears 
in  the  public  exhibition  in  the  pueblo  plaza. 
Neither  idol  nor  masked  personators  are  wor- 
shipped, but  both  are  regarded  as  symbolic 
representations,  in  which  possibly  the  gods  may 
temporarily  reside. 

So  in  the  use  of  marionettes  to  represent  the 
Corn  Maidens  in  the  theatrical  exhibition  or 
personation  by  masked  girls  in  the  same  role. 
They  are  symbolic  representations  of  the  mythic 
maidens  whose  beneficent  gifts  of  corn  and 
other  seeds,  in  ancient  times,  is  a  constant 
theme  in  Hopi  legends. 

We  are  justified  in  calling  the  preceding  per- 
formance a  theatrical  exhibition  rather  than  a 
religious  ceremony  for  the  following  reasons. 
Many  of  the  sacred  objects  which  are  always 
present    in    a    religious    ceremony   of  the    Hopis, 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE  209 

such  as  the  altar,  the  feather  sticks,  and  the 
medicine  and  medicine  bowl  are  here  absent. 
The  performers  do  not  belong  to  any  special 
religious  fraternity,  and  all  the  men,  women  and 
children  are  permitted  to  witness  the  perform- 
ance—  a  thing  unheard  of  in  their  religious 
ceremonies.  The  paraphernalia  used  are  not 
ancient  as  is  the  case  with  most  of  the  things 
used  in  a  religious  ceremony. 

The  explanation  of  these  theatrical  perform- 
ances must  be  sought  in  the  symbolization  of 
legendary  events,  part  historical,  part  mythical. 
Since  these  performances  deal  with  mythologi- 
cal subjects  the  actors  are  personations  of  mythic 
or  supernatural  beings. 

The  effigies  represent  the  Great  Serpent,  a 
supernatural  personage  of  importance  in  all 
their  legends.  This  being  is  associated  with  the 
Hopi  version  of  the  flood,  for  it  is  said  that  in 
ancient  times,  while  the  ancestors  of  certain 
clans  lived  in  the  far  south,  at  a  place  called 
Palatkwabi,  this  monster  on  one  occasion  rose 
through  the  middle  of  the  pueblo  plaza  to  the 
zenith,  drawing  after  him  a  great  flood,  which 
submerged  the  land  and  obliged  the  Hopi  to 
migrate,  and  to  seek  refuge  in  the  north,  their 
present    home.     At    this    time,    which    was    long 


210    THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

ago  in  their  annals,  the  Serpent  rose,  and,  calling 
out  from  the  clouds,  demanded  the  sacrifice 
of  a  boy  and  girl.  To  this  demand  the  Hopi 
acceded  with  children  of  their  chiefs,  whom  the 
monster  took,  and  sank  back  into  the  earth, 
leaving  a  black  rock  to  mark  the  place  of 
sacrifice. 

When  the  two  serpent  effigies  automatically 
rise  from  the  two  vases,  throwing  back  the 
semicircular  flaps  with  rain-cloud  symbols,  it 
represents  the  event  recorded  in  legends  —  the 
Hopi  version  of  the  flood.  The  snake  effigies 
knocking  over  the  miniature  field  of  corn  sym- 
bolize floods;  possibly  wind,  which  the  Great 
Serpent  brings.  The  effigies  of  the  monsters 
emerge  through  orifices  closed  by  disks,  upon 
which  sun  symbols  are  depicted,  to  show  how 
floods  which  destroy  the  fields  come  from  the 
sky,  the  realm  of  the  sun.  The  masked  men, 
called  "mudheads,"  are  ancients  which  have 
come  to  have  superhuman  powers  in  causing 
corn  to  grow  and  mature.  They  struggle  with 
the  monsters  who  would  destroy  the  farms  of 
man.  The  acts  in  which  they  appear  represent 
in  a  symbolic  way  the  contest  of  early  man 
with  supernatural  powers  which  set  at  naught 
the  labors  of  the  agriculturist.     But  nowhere  is 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE  211 

the  dramatic  element  more  prominent  than  in  the 
representation  of  the  conversion  of  corn  into 
meal,  when  the  personators  of  the  Corn  Maids, 
or  effigies  of  the  same,  grind  the  meal  in  the 
kivas  or  public  plazas.  We  have  this  exhibi- 
tion in  at  least  two  forms,  one  by  figurines, 
another  by  masked  girls.  Although  the  masks 
or  maskettes  which  these  girls  wear  vary  slightly 
in  symbols,  there  is  little  doubt  that  they  repre- 
sent the  Corn  Maids,  who  are  likewise  represented 
by  the  two  figurines. 

All  the  acts,  given  for  the  instruction  or 
amusement  of  spectators,  are  symbolic  dramatic 
representations  of  events  in  the  cultural  history 
or  life  of  the  Hopi,  especially  those  recounted 
in  the  legends  of  their  clans.  They  are  rude 
mystery  plays  of  a  religious  nature  —  develop- 
ments from  archaic  ceremonies  which  have 
come  to  have  a  secular  as  well  as  religious  use. 
While  affording  entertainment,  which  the  Hopi 
greatly  enjoy,  they  instruct  the  spectators  in 
the  mysteries  of  religion,  as  the  Hopi  regard 
this    sentiment.' 

On  the  island  of  Java,  where  a  high    civiliza- 

'  J.  S.  Kewkcs,  "A  Theatrical  Performance  at  Walpi."  Pro- 
ceedings of  the  Washington  Academy  of  Sciences,  Dec.  28,  1900,  Vol. 
II,  pp.  60s  ^'y  ^-  ^^-  Stephen,  "The  Paliilakonti  —  a  Tuscayan 
Ceremony,"  Journal  of  American  Folk-lore,  1893,  pp.  269  ff. 


212    THE  DR.\MA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

tion  has  existed  for  thousands  of  years,  the 
drama  takes  on  many  unique  characteristics. 
The  basis  of  this  drama,  or  Wajang,^  seems  to 
be  the  puppet  shows,  which  may  be  divided 
under  two  heads,  those  in  which  the  actual 
puppets  are  used,  and  those  in  which  human 
beings  take  the  parts  of  puppets.  Wlien  a  per- 
formance of  the  first  type  occurs,  a  screen, 
upon  which  the  shadows  appear,  is  stretched 
across  one  end  of  a  room.  In  front  of  this  the 
spectators  sit,  but  it  often  happens  that  the 
male  members  of  the  audience  may  sit  behind 
the  screen  with  the  manipulator,  or  Dalang, 
if  they  desire,  so  that  they  may  see  not  only  the 
shadows,  but  also  the  puppets  themselves. 
The  Javanese  distinguish  three  kinds  of  \\  a- 
jang.  In  the  first,  which  is  the  oldest  and  most 
original,  the  stories  are  taken  from  Hindu  tra- 
ditions, such  as  the  Ramayama  and  Mahabha- 
rata.  They  deal  with  the  oldest  mythological 
history  at  a  time  when  the  gods  had  close  inter- 
course with  men.  The  gods,  demi-gods  and 
other  beings  are  represented  in  this  Wajang 
by  means  of  puppets  of  a  hideous  shape.  They 
are  cut  out  of  buffalo  leather  and  are  about 
two  feet  high  with  movable  joints  and  are  cov- 

^  The  word  "Wajang"  means  shadow,  or  apparition. 


PLEASURE   PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE    213 

ered  with  paint  of  various  colors.  The  arms 
are  extremely  long  and  thin,  while  the  counte- 
nances are  sharp  as  the  beak  of  a  bird  and  are 
provided  with  monstrous  noses  and  hideous 
canine  teeth.  An  outHt  of  these  puppets  repre- 
sents a  large  capital.  One  man  is  known  to 
have  a  set  which  is  worth  about  3000  gulden, 
although  the  average  cost  of  two  hundred  puppets 
ranges  between   180  and  700  gulden.^ 

In  the  second  type  of  Wajang  the  story  is 
taken  from  some  of  the  Javanese  hero  myths. 
The  puppets  in  this  performance  are  less  expen- 
sive than  those  made  in  the  first  sort  of  Wajang, 
They  are  usually  made  out  of  thin  flat  wood, 
the  hands  alone  being  made  of  bufi^alo  hide. 

In  the  third  type  the  puppets  are  not  flat 
but  round  and  no  screen  is  used  for  the  per- 
formance. This  means,  of  course,  that  the  spec- 
tators see  the  puppets  and  not  their  shadows 
and  for  this  reason  they  can  be  exhibited  in 
the  daytime.  The  story  of  these  plays  deals 
with  more  modern  history  than  in  the  case  of 
either   of  the   other   two. 

In  all  three  types  the  puppets  are  manipulated 
by  one  man,  usually  the  owner,  who  also  recites 
the  lines  of  the  play.    He  is  assisted  by  an  orchestra 

'  Ciuldcn  -  $.40. 


214    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

and  also  by  a  singer  who  attempts,  during  the  in- 
termissions, to  amuse  the  audience  by  her  songs. 

In  many  locaHties  there  are  performances 
given,  in  which  the  puppets  are  replaced  by 
human  beings,  but  their  actions  are  so  stiff  and 
awkward  that  they  might  well  be  controlled 
by  strings  and  wires.  They  do  not  speak  and 
merely  follow  the  action  of  the  lines  as  they  are 
recited  by  the  Dalang.  This  man  is  as  impor- 
tant a  functionary  in  the  drama  of  the  Javanese 
as  is  the  Choregus  in  the  drama  of  the  Greeks. 
He  is  treated  in  the  community  with  great 
reverence  and  respect,  and  when  he  supplies 
his  own  puppets  he  does  not  have  to  serve  in  the 
army  or  in  any  other  public  capacity  and  he  is 
exempt  from  the  payment  of  land  taxes  with  the 
understanding  that  his  village  companions  are 
to  pay  his  share.  In  the  country  districts  it 
frequently  happens  that  these  men  can  neither 
read  nor  write  and  hence  the  parts  which  they 
recite  are  taught  to  them  by  Master  Dalangs. 
In  the  cities,  however,  these  men  are  very 
learned  and  not  only  can  read  and  write,  but 
also  possess  great  knowledge  of  the  native  lit- 
erature. It  is  a  very  difficult  thing  to  become 
an  accomplished  Dalang,  for  one  must  be  elo- 
quent,   must    have    a    large    vocabulary    at    his 


PLEASURE   PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE    215 

disposal,  and  must  know  the  Javanese  etiquette 
in  the  smallest  details.  He  must  have  a  good 
memory  and  a  quick  wit  to  fill  in  the  gaps  in 
case  he  forgets  his  lines.  The  Dalang  finds  in 
the  Wajang  performance  his  means  of  sub- 
sistence and  hence  he  must  become  very  expert 
if  he  wishes  to  succeed.  A  good  man  will  often 
earn  as  much  as  25  gulden  in  an  evening,  but  out 
of  this  he  must  pay  all  expenses. 

The  purpose  of  these  Wajang  seems  to  be 
threefold:  pleasure,  teaching,  and  religion.  A 
marriage  is  never  properly  consummated  and  the 
blessings  of  the  gods  cannot  rest  upon  the  pair, 
if  the  Wajang  is  omitted.  In  sickness  or  for 
any  undertaking  whatever,  it  is  proper  to  make 
a  promise  of  a  Wajang  performance,  if  there 
should  be  a  fortunate  outcome.^  A  Javanese 
will  say  that  one  aim  of  these  plays  is  to  give 
the  people  a  better  insight  into  the  history  of 
the  country.'^  The  moral  teaching  in  this  drama 
is  a  negligible  quantity,  for  acts  of  the  greatest 
indecency  are  presented.  The  heroes,  gifted 
with  invulnerability,  armed  with  irresistible 
weapons,  backed  up  by  celestial  powers,  can 
present   very   little   inspiration,    because   bravery 

'  See  the  Sun  Dance  of  the  Plains  Indians. 
'  See  the  Australian  Initiation  Ceremonies. 


2i6    THE   DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

is  for  the  people  almost  unknown.  Perhaps 
at  one  time  the  drama  in  Java  performed  the 
important  rites  which  we  find  laid  at  its  door  in 
other  parts  of  the  world,  but  that  time  is  past 
and  it  exists  at  the  present  time  largely  for  the 
pleasure  which  it  affords  to  the  people.^ 

The  height  reached  by  the  drama  among  the 
so-called  savage  peoples  is  in  the  plays  of  the 
Ancient  Peruvians  and  the  Aztecs.  The  "civi- 
lization" of  these  people  is  so  well  known  that 
it  would  be  vain  repetition  to  discuss  it  here. 
However,  the  dramatic  phase  deserves  a  very 
prominent  place  in  this  study  of  primitive  forms 
of  the  drama.  The  Peruvians  were  very  clever 
in  composing  tragedies  and  comedies  which  were 
played  before  their  kings  and  nobility  on  festi- 
val occasions.  The  tragedies  dealt  with  military 
deeds,  triumphs,  and  victories  or  portrayed  the 
splendor  of  former  kings  and  heroes.  The  com- 
edies had  for  their  subject-matter  agriculture 
or  other  household  subjects.  These  people  also 
understood  blank  verse.  The  actors  who  took 
part  in  these  plays  were  not  the  common  people, 
but   noblemen   and   their   sons.^     In   some   other 

1  G.  A.  Wilken,  "Volkenkiinde,"  Ch.  V,  pp.  loi  fF. 

^  "The  Royal  Commentaries  of  Peru,"  written  originally  in  Span- 
ish by  the  Inca,  Garcilasso  de  la  Vega,  1688,  p.  49;  W.  I.  Thomas, 
''Decennial  Publications  of  the  University  of  Chicago,"  First  Series, 
4:  pp.  241  fF.    See  the  "No"  Plays  of  Japan. 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE  217 

high  civilizations,  such  as  that  of  Rome,  the 
acting  profession  was  looked  down  upon  and 
those  who  took  part  were  in  a  class  by 
themselves.'  But  looking  at  a  lower  civiliza- 
tion we  see  that  often  the  chief,  the  priest,  and 
the  actor  were  one  and  the  same  person;  in  fact, 
the  most  prominent  men  in  the  tribe  were  those 
who  could  act  the  best  and  these  formed  a  society 
of  their  own,  not  below,  as  in  the  case  of  some 
more  advanced  civilization,  but  very  far  above 
the  common  throng. 

Among  the  Aztecs  of  Mexico  the  drama  had 
reached  a  very  high  plane  of  development,  and 
many  of  their  plays  were  written  in  poetic  form. 
There  was  no  regular  building  devoted  to  the 
drama,  but  at  the  time  of  a  performance  a 
platform,  which,  according  to  Cortez,  was  six 
feet  high  and  thirty  feet  square,  was  erected  in 
the  market-place  of  the  town.  In  some  vil- 
lages this  was  permanent.  The  principal  one, 
which  was  at  Tlatelulco,  consisted  of  a  terrace 
of  stone.  When  it  was  to  be  used  it  was  deco- 
rated with  branches  of  trees,  and  various  colored 
mats  with  the  coat  of  arms  of  the  city  upon 
them,  were  hung  around  the  sides. 

If  a  stage  of  this  sort  was  not  used,  the  lower 

'  See  Chambers  "The  Medixval  Stage." 


2i8    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE   PEOPLE 

step  or  porch  of  the  temple  was  made  to  serve 
for  the  performance.  This  was  decorated  for 
the  occasion  with  arches  made  from  trees, 
feathers,  and  flowers,  and  from  which  hung 
birds,  rabbits,  fruits,  and  other  objects.  It 
was  to  this  outdoor  theatre  that  the  people 
hastened  after  dinner.  When  all  was  ready 
the  actors  appeared  and  went  through  various 
scenes  of  buffoonery  in  which  the  deaf,  lame, 
blind  and  paralyzed  were  mimicked.  At  other 
times  merchants,  mechanics,  or  prominent  citi- 
zens were  burlesqued.  "Each  actor  endeavored 
to  represent  his  role  in  the  most  grotesque 
manner  possible.  He  who  was  for  the  moment 
deaf  gave  nonsensical  answers  to  questions  put 
to  him;  the  sick  man  depicted  the  effects  of 
pain  and  so  forth."  When  these  had  finished, 
other  actors  dressed  as  beetles,  toads,  or  lizards 
took  their  places.  A  conversation  ensued  be- 
tween these  various  animals  in  which  each 
explained  its  function  on  the  earth  and  said 
that  it  had  been  here  first.  These  actors  in 
hopping  and  jumping  around  the  stage  were 
clever  in  representing  the  actions  of  the  animals 
which  they  impersonated.  Following  these  were 
the  pupils  from  the  seminaries  and  the  boys 
from  the  temple,  who  were  dressed  as  birds  and 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE    219 

butterflies.  These  little  actors  hid  in  the  trees 
while  the  priests  pelted  them  with  pellets  of 
earth  and  while  doing  this  gave  them  comic  ad- 
monitions. The  performance  ended  by  a  ballet 
in  which  all  of  the  performers  took  part. 

The  actors  were  all  very  carefully  rehearsed 
in  their  parts  so  that  no  slips  would  be  made. 
The  children  were  taken  in  hand  by  the  priests 
when  they  were  very  young  and  trained  in 
singing.  They  were  taught  long  epic  poems  in 
which  the  deeds  of  great  heroes  were  set  forth. 
These  poems  were  probably  used  during  these 
festival  occasions. 

This  description  of  the  drama  of  Mexico  is 
of  special  interest,  for  it  is  the  only  one  which 
has  yet  been  found.  The  kind  of  acting  dis- 
played "recalls  the  stage  of  Thespis  rather 
than  the  art  of  ^schylus,"  but  it  is  none  the 
less  important  in  completing  the  picture  of  the 
drama  of  the  lower  races  of  man.^ 

Among  many  savage  peoples  the  plays  are  of 
an  historical  character  wherein  one  portrayed 
actual  events  of  the  past. 

The  Mayas  of  Yucatan  have  bands  of  pro- 
fessional actors  who  wander  from  house  to  house 

1  Biart,  "The  Aztecs,"  pp.  302  fF. 
Bancroft,  loc.  cit.,  Vol.  II,  pp.  291  ff. 


220    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

giving  little  plays,  for  which  they  receive  gifts. 
At  regular  entertainments  these  bands  hold 
performances  under  the  leadership  of  a  master 
of  ceremonies.  He  not  only  gives  instruction 
to  the  actors  but  also  directs  the  singers  and 
musicians.  This  personage  is  very  similar  to 
the  one  who  conducts  some  of  the  plays  in 
Australia  and  on  the  Andaman  Islands.^  As  a 
rule,  the  plays  are  of  an  historical  character, 
based  on  some  deeds  of  their  ancestors  or  on 
other  important  events  of  the  past.^ 

The  Guajiqueros,  although  not  a  civilized 
people,  tell  much  of  their  early  history  in  the 
drama,  which  has  come  to  be  a  well-recognized 
institution  among  them.  A  square  piece  of 
ground  is  chosen  for  the  performance.  In  two 
corners  are  set  up  single  poles,  one  of  which 
bears  the  head  of  a  deer,  and  the  other  that  of 
a  jaguar.  When  everything  is  ready,  a  dull 
music  is  heard  outside  and  presently  two  bands 
of  youths  slowly  enter  the  square  and  take 
up  their  positions  around  the  poles  which  bear 
their  respective  insignia.  After  they  have  settled 
themselves,  each  side  sends  out  a  man,  who, 
pretending  to  be  bent  with   age,   dances   around 

*  See  Ch.  VII,  pp.  227,  230  (note). 

*  Bancroft,  loc.  cit..  Vol,  II,  pp.  711  fF. 


PLEASURE   PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE    221 

in  a  grotesque  manner,  much  to  the  amusement 
of  the  spectators.  Soon  these  two  old  men  meet 
and  a  lively  discussion  ensues,  which  ends  in 
both  returning  in  a  rage  to  their  respective 
camps.  When  these  ambassadors  have  told 
the  men  of  the  result  of  the  conference,  great 
excitement  takes  place.  Both  parties  start  to 
dance  backward  and  forward  around  the  square 
until  they  meet  in  the  centre.  Again  the  old 
men  step  forth,  one  at  a  time,  and  recount  the 
deeds  of  prowess  and  bravery  of  their  own 
tribes.  This  brings  shouts  of  joy  from  one  side, 
but  hisses  and  other  signs  of  disapproval  from 
the  other.  Finally  such  a  pitch  of  excitement 
is  reached  that  the  men  are  unable  to  contain 
their  wrath  any  longer.  The  talking  ceases, 
the  music  begins,  and  a  mimic  combat  is  in  full 
swing.  After  advancing  and  retreating  a  number 
of  times  the  jaguars  lose  their  standard  and  take 
flight.  The  victors  execute  a  dance  of  triumph, 
but  this  is  soon  turned  to  grief  when  they  realize 
how  many  of  their  friends  have  fallen.  With 
heads  bent  upon  their  knees,  they  break  out 
into  loud  moans  and  sobs.  Finally  one  of  them 
arises  and  gives  a  eulogy  for  the  fallen  and  this 
is  followed  by  certain  ceremonies  and  sacrifices. 
Hardly  have  they  finished  when  the  conquered 


222    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

are  seen  to  be  approaching  with  lowered  eyes 
and  carrying  in  their  hands  tribute,  which  they 
lay  at  the  feet  of  the  victors.  This  brings  the 
performance  to  an  end.^ 

In  Samoa  the  natives  give  dramatic  perform- 
ances showing  some  of  their  relationships  with 
the  whites.  The  interesting  circumstance  in 
the  particular  play  about  to  be  mentioned  is 
that  women  take  all  the  parts  rather  than  the 
men.  It  represents  the  visit  of  a  naval  officer 
and  his  men  to  a  native  village.  The  leading 
woman  acts  the  part  of  the  officer,  and  the  other 
girls  the  sailors.^  They  go  through  a  mock  drill 
"in  which  it  is  hard  to  say  which  is  the  more 
grotesque,  the  imitation  of  the  manual  of  arms 
performed  with  cocoanut  leaf  stalks  in  place 
of  muskets,  or  the  attempt  of  the  girl  to  give 
orders  in  some  sort  of  gibberish,  which  she  thinks 
reproduces  the  sound  of  the  English  words." 
After  the  drill  is  over  the  girls  take  again  their 
natural   characters    as    members   of  the   village.^ 

Some  years  ago  a  great  tidal  wave  swept  over 
some  of  the  Polynesian  Islands,  killing  many  of 

1  Bancroft,  loc.  cit.,  Vol.  I,  pp.  737  ff. 

*  In  the  drama  of  Java  the  natives  imitate  the  daily  life  of  Chinese 
and  Arabs,  and  even  Europeans  are  represented  in  a  most  laughable 
manner.     G.  A.  Wilken,  "  Volkenkunde,"  Ch.  V. 

'  Churchill,  "Samoa  'Uma',"  P-  76. 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE     223 

the  inhabitants  and  destroying  much  property. 
A  very  few  poeple  escaped  in  small  canoes  to 
some  of  the  neighboring  islands  which  were 
untouched  by  the  storm.  The  story  of  this 
event  is  now  acted  by  about  six  or  seven  natives. 

During  the  performance  an  epic  poem  is  sung 
telling  of  the  various  tragic  events.  First,  a 
man  comes  in,  carrying  a  young  sapling  which 
he  sticks  into  the  ground.  This  represents  the 
young  and  flourishing  colony  before  the  dis- 
aster. The  next  man  carries  an  ax,  with  which 
he  cuts  down  the  tree;  this  is  the  tidal  wave 
striking  the  islands.  The  last  scene  consists 
of  all  the  actors  pulling  a  small  canoe  away, 
which  is  the  escape  of  the  few  survivors.  During 
this  part  the  song  changes  to  a  dirge.^ 

This  bit  of  dramatic  representation,  simple 
as  it  is,  shows  one  very  important  phase  in  the 
study  of  the  exact  history  of  savage  peoples. 
There  is  here  the  acting  out  of  a  known  incident 
which  took  place  within  the  memory  of  the  now 
living  inhabitants  of  the  Polynesian  Islands. 
This  event  has  been  put  into  the  form  of  a  very 
definite  epic  poem-play.  The  time  will  come  in 
the  future  when  the  memory  of  this  event  will 

'  Prof.  Crampton  of  Columbia  University,  Sigma  XI  lecture 
delivered  in  the  Sheffield  Scientific  School,  March  7,  1911. 


224    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

have  passed  out  entirely,  but  the  play  will 
remain  as  a  tradition  whose  origin  is  lost  in 
obscurity.  Our  descendants  may  see  this  acted 
and  then  by  looking  up  the  records  will  find 
that  such  an  occurrence  really  took  place.  Hence 
there  is  a  means  there  of  determining  the  truth 
or  falsity  of  tradition,  and  may,  perhaps,  help  to 
determine  how  some  of  the  people  came  to  occupy 
the   islands   where   they   now   live. 

In  order  to  show  how  important  it  is  in  de- 
termining the  history  of  a  people,  if  a  means  is 
found  of  checking  up  some  of  their  traditions,  a 
quotation  will  be  given  from  Tylor.  "The  South 
Sea  Islanders,  who  till  quite  lately  had  no  writing, 
were  intelligent  barbarians,  much  given  to  hand- 
ing down  recollections  of  bygone  days,  and  in 
one  or  two  cases  which  it  has  been  possible  to 
test  among  them,  it  seems  as  though  memory 
may  really  keep  a  historical  record  long  and 
correctly.  It  is  related  by  Mr.  Whitmee,  the 
missionary,  that  in  the  island  of  Rotuna  there 
was  a  very  old  tree  under  which,  according  to 
tradition,  the  stone  seat  of  a  famous  chief  had 
been  buried;  this  tree  has  lately  blown  down, 
and  sure  enough,  there  was  a  stone  seat  under 
its  roots,  which  must  have  been  out  of  sight  for 
centuries.     In  the  EUice  group    the   natives   de- 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE    225 

clared  that  their  ancestors  came  from  a  valley 
in  the  distant  island  of  Samoa  generations  before, 
and  they  preserved  an  old  worm-eaten  staff, 
pieced  to  hold  it  together,  which  in  their  as- 
semblies the  orator  held  in  his  hand,  as  the 
sign  of  having  the  right  to  speak.  This  staff 
was  lately  taken  to  Samoa  and  proved  to  be 
made  of  wood  that  grew  there,  while  the  people 
of  the  valley  in  question  had  a  tradition  of  a 
great  party  going  out  to  sea  exploring,  who 
never  came  back."  ^ 

Among  the  Euahlayi  tribe  of  Australia  there 
is  a  play,  or  rather  a  dramatic  incident,  which 
tells  of  the  coming  of  the  first  boat  up  the  Bar- 
won.  A  log  is  hollowed  out,  plastered  over 
with  mud,  and  painted  to  represent  the  boat. 
A  smaller  log,  bored  out,  is  placed  in  the  middle 
for  the  funnel.  In  one  side  is  a  little  hollow 
in  which  a  fire  is  made  so  that  the  smoke  may 
pour  out  of  the  stack.  The  natives,  who  first 
appear,  represent  the  various  birds,  such  as 
cranes,  pelicans,  black  swans,  and  ducks.  The 
motions  of  each  bird  are  graphically  represented, 
and,  as  they  perceive  the  strange  boat  their 
startled  cries  are  given.  This  noise  causes  some 
armed  natives  to  come  on  to  the  scene  in  order 

*  Tyler,  "Anthropology,"  p.  374. 


226    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

to  discover  the  cause  of  the  disturbance.  When 
they  see  the  boat  they  start  back  in  astonish- 
ment, but  finally  come  together  for  a  consulta- 
tion in  order  to  determine  the  best  method  of 
dealing  with  this  strange  monster.  One  by  one 
they  seize  their  weapons  and  approach  the  shore 
in  order  to  get  a  better  view  of  the  boat.  At 
this  instant  some  one  stokes  the  fire  so  that 
clouds  of  smoke  and  sparks  belch  forth.  In 
terror   the   blacks    retreat   into   the   bush.^ 

In  these  last  two  descriptions  the  basis  of  the 
action  has  been  some  real  historical  event  which 
has  been  recorded  in  this  dramatic  form,  and 
while  they  can  hardly  be  called  plays,  for  there  is 
no  plot,  yet  they  clearly  belong  in  a  discussion 
of  this  sort  as  showing  an  early  development 
in  the  pure  form  of  the  drama. 

One  bit  of  drama  of  the  Australians  shows 
their  keen  perceptive  powers  and  their  ability 
to  act  out  an  incident  seen  or  experienced.  It 
is  acted  by  one  man  and  shows  his  endeavor 
to  cross  the  Snowy  River  in  a  leaky  canoe  during 
a    flood.     He    starts    by    pushing   the    canoe   off 

'  Parker,  "The  Euahlayi,"  pp.  130  ff.  At  times  of  festivities  a 
burlesque  on  the  more  serious  war  dance  is  given,  in  which  are  shown 
the  preparations,  the  warpath,  the  attack  and  defeat  of  the  enemy, 
and  the  joyful  return. 

E.  Palmer,  "Notes  on  Some  Australian  Tribes,"  13  J.  A.  I.  p.  289. 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE  227 

and  paddling  into  the  stream.  When  there, 
a  leak  is  discovered  and  he  tries  very  ineffec- 
tually to  bale  it  out.  Failing  in  this,  he  makes 
a  hasty  retreat  to  the  shore,  stops  up  the  hole 
with  mud,  and  finally  paddles  successfully 
across.^ 

In  some  of  the  plays  in  Australia  the  natives 
display  their  histrionic  ability  by  acting  tragedy, 
comedy,  and  farce,  all  of  which  are  of  their 
own  composition.  In  late  years  many  of  the 
scenes  represent  incidents  which  have  taken 
place  in  their  contact  with  the  whites.  Mr. 
Gideon  S.  Lang  witnessed  a  very  elaborate  play 
at  which  about  five  hundred  natives  were  present, 
but  only  a  small  portion  of  these  took  part. 
The  stage  was  in  an  open  glade  which  was  about 
two  hundred  yards  long  and  had  a  rather  thick 
growth  of  trees  for  the  background.  At  one 
end  was  the  orchestra  composed  of  one  hundred 
women  and  led  by  a  well-known  native  named 
Eaglehawk.  "The  leader,"  says  Mr.  Lang, 
"chanted  a  description  of  the  scenes  as  they 
passed,  accompanied  by  the  women,  their  voices 
continuously  repeating  what  seemed  to  be  the 
same  words,  while  they  beat  time  by  striking 
with   a  stick  a  quantity  of  earth,  tightly  rolled 

'  Howitt,  "Native  Tribes  of  Southeast  Australia,"  pp.  423  ff. 


228    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

up  in  a  piece  of  cloth  or  opossum  rug.  The 
moon  shone  brightly,  lighting  up  the  stage  and 
the  tops  of  the  trees,  but  casting  a  deep  shadow 
below.  This  shadow,  however,  was  again  relieved 
by  several  large  fires  on  each  side  of  the  stage, 
leaving  a  clear  view  to  Eaglehawk  and  the  or- 
chestra, behind  whom  stood  the  spectators,  the 
whites  being  in  the  centre.  The  first  act  of 
the  corroboree  was  the  representation  of  a  herd 
of  cattle,  feeding  out  of  the  forest,  and  camping 
on  the  plain,  the  black  performers  being  painted 
accordingly.  The  imitation  was  most  skilful, 
the  action  and  attitude  of  every  individual 
member  of  the  entire  herd  being  ludicrously 
exact.  Some  lay  down  and  chewed  the  cud, 
others  stood  scratching  themselves  with  hind 
feet  or  horns,  licking  themselves  or  their  calves, 
several  rubbing  their  heads  against  each  other 
in  bucolic  friendliness.  This  having  lasted  for 
some  time,  scene  the  second  commenced.  A 
party  of  blacks  was  seen  creeping  towards  the 
cattle,  taking  all  the  usual  precautions,  such  as 
keeping  to  the  leeward,  in  order  to  prevent  the 
herd  from  being  alarmed.  They  got  up  close 
to  the  cattle  at  last,  and  speared  two  head,  to 
the  intense  delight  of  the  black  spectators,  who 
applauded   rapturously.     The  hunters  next  went 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE     229 

through  the  various  operations  of  skinning, 
cutting  up,  and  carrying  away  the  pieces,  the 
whole  process  being  carried  out  with  the  most 
minute  exactness.  Scene  the  third  commenced 
with  the  sound  of  horses  galloping  through  the 
timber,  followed  by  the  appearance  of  a  party 
of  whites  on  horseback,  remarkably  well  got  up. 
The  faces  were  painted  whity-brown,  with  an 
imitation  of  the  cabbage  tree  hat;  the  bodies 
were  painted,  some  blue  and  others  red,  to 
represent  the  shirts;  below  the  waist  was  a 
resemblance  of  the  moleskin  trousers,  the  legs 
being  covered  with  reeds,  tied  all  around,  to 
imitate  the  hide  leggings  worn  in  that  district 
as  a  protection  against  the  brigalow  scrub. 
These  manufactured  whites  at  once  wheeled  to 
the  right,  fired,  and  drove  the  blacks  before 
them.  The  latter  soon  rallied,  however,  and 
a  desperate  fight  ensued,  the  blacks  extending 
their  flanks,  and  driving  back  the  whites.  The 
fictitious  white  men  bit  the  cartridges,  put  on  the 
caps  and  went  through  all  the  forms  of  loading, 
firing,  wheeling  their  horses,  assisting  each  other, 
etc.,  with  an  exactness  which  proved  personal 
observation.  The  native  spectators  groaned 
whenever  a  black  fellow  fell,  but  cheered  lustily 
when    a    white    bit    the    dust;     and     at     length, 


230    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

after  the  ground  had  been  fought  over  and  over 
again,  the  whites  were  driven  ignominiously 
from  the  field,  amidst  the  frantic  dehght  of  the 
natives,  while  Eaglehawk  worked  himself  into 
such  a  violent  state  of  excitement  that  at  one 
time  the  play  seemed  likely  to  terminate  in  a 
real  deadly  fight."  ^ 

In  a  study  of  this  sort  it  is  impossible,  even 
for  the  sake  of  comparison,  to  give  a  detailed 
account  of  the  dramas  of  other  peoples  besides 
the  savages,  and  hence  only  the  briefest  cross 
references  can  be  made  to  the  higher  planes  of 
culture.  In  the  plays  of  the  Greeks  there  can 
be  found  the  same  basic  ideas  as  appear  in  the 
historical  plays  of  the  savages.  People  the  world 
over,  delight  in  the  stories  of  their  own  brave 
men,  and  if  they  do  not  put  these  deeds  into  the 
form  of  a  dramatic  composition  or  an  epic  poem, 
they  enjoy  retelling  them  by  the  camp  fires  at 
night  to  each  new  generation  as  it  reaches  a 
sufficient  age.     But  as  a  rule,  if  the  people  have 

1  Smyth,  "Aborigines  of  Victoria,"  pp.  170  fF.;  Thomas,  "Aus- 
tralia," p.  124;  E.  Grosse,  "The  Beginnings  of  Art,"  pp.  207  ff.; 
Thomas,  "  Source  Book  of  Social  Origins,"  pp.  577  fF.  On  the  Anda- 
man Islands  they  frequently  have  a  director  of  the  dance  and  music 
who  is,  as  a  rule,  a  poet  and  the  composer  of  the  dance  melody.  He 
beats  time  on  a  sounding  board  with  his  foot  for  the  dancers  and  the 
singers.  E.  Grosse,  "The  Beginnings  of  Art,"  pp.  207  fF.;  Thomas, 
"Source  Book  for  Social  Origins,"  pp.  580  fF. 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE     231 

developed  the  dramatic  art  to  any  extent,  they 
have  their  war  plays,  in  which  are  recounted 
the  glories  of  the  past. 

In  the  Polynesian  Islands,  instead  of  the 
priests  and  the  important  members  of  the  groups 
taking  part  in  the  pleasure  plays,  there  exists 
a  condition  which  was  common  in  a  very  much 
higher  state  of  society.  That  is,  the  actors  were 
members  of  the  lowest  strata,  and  they  were 
forced  to  take  part  in  all  exhibitions,  and  to 
dance  and  act  for  the  edification  of  the  spec- 
tators.^ In  many  countries  of  a  more  devel- 
oped civilization  the  slaves  were  made  to  per- 
form for  their  masters,  for  dancing  was  looked 
upon  as   a  degrading  task. 

Many  of  the  plays  of  the  Polynesians  closely  re- 
semble the  Greek  plays  in  regard  to  their  subject- 
matter,  for  they  are  based  upon  the  legends  or 
achievements  of  their  gods  and  upon  the  exploits 
of  their  distinguished  heroes  and  chieftains.  The 
stories  are  told  in  the  ballads,  the  actors  per- 
forming the  various  deeds  described.^ 

1  W.  Ellis,  "Polynesian  Research,"  Vol.  I,  p.  241;  W.  R.  Inge, 
"Society  in  Rome  Under  the  Caesars,"  p.  230.  "The  actor  was 
ranked  with  slaves,  and  barbarians  ...  he  generally  was  a  slave  or 
freedman.ora  native  of  some  country  where  his  profession  was  more 
esteemed,  such  as  the  Greek  colonics  and  the  East  generally." 

*  W.  Ellis,  "  Polynesian  Research,"  Vol.  I,  p.  199. 


232    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

Among  the  Greeks  the  Choregus  was  a  very 
important  functionary.  Before  a  phay  could  be 
presented  to  the  pubhc  it  was  handed  to  the 
Archon,  who  read  it.  If  it  was  thought  worthy 
to  be  given  before  the  pubhc  at  the  festival  of 
Dionysus  a  Choregus  was  chosen  to  present  it. 
These  men  were  of  great  wealth,  and  the  choosing 
and  paying  of  the  chorus  devolved  upon  them. 
As  a  rule,  the  poet  trained  his  own  choruses, 
although  at  times  a  professional  trainer  was 
called  in.  The  Choregus  was  not  only  obliged 
to  pay  for  the  members  of  the  chorus,  the  flute 
player,  and  the  mute  characters  on  the  stage, 
but  he  had  also  to  pay  for  the  elaborate  cos- 
tuming of  all  under  him.^  However,  the  Chore- 
gus of  the  Greeks  differed  from  that  of  the  savage 
and  of  the  later  stage  in  that  he  did  not  appear 
at  the  performance.  A  similar  functionary  exists 
on  the  island  of  Java.  He  has  entire  charge  of 
the  performance  and  not  only  coaches  and  pays 
for  the  actors  and  music,  but  also  recites  the  lines 
himself.  The  actors  merely  carry  out  in  panto- 
mime the  meaning  of  the  lines. ^ 

In  the    leader   of  the   savage    plays,  who  tells 

1  A.  E.  Haigh,  "The  Attic  Theatre,"  pp.53  ff.;  J.  W.  Donaldson, 
"The  Theatre  of  the  Greeks,"  p.  243. 
'  Wilken,  "  Volkenkunde,"  Ch.  V. 


PLEASURE   PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE     233 

the  story  of  the  various  parts  of  the  play,  we  see 
the  expositor  who  in  the  drama  of  the  Middle 
Ages  commented  on  the  scenes  in  the  passion 
plays  and  expounded  their  meaning.^  In  Greece 
this  function  was  performed  by  the  chorus.  At 
the  present  time,  in  the  Passion  Play  at  Ober- 
Ammergau,  the  Choregus,  or  leader  of  the  chorus, 
comes  forth  before  each  act  and  tells  the  story 
of  the  events  to  follow,  for  in  former  days  the 
audience  were  not  able  to  read  and  this  means 
was  adopted  of  bringing  before  them  the  Bible 
stories  and  moral  teachings. 

When  the  first  regular  drama  began  in  Greece 
the  people  were  probably  on  a  very  much  higher 
stage  of  culture  than  any  of  the  savage  peoples 
about  whom  we  have  been  studying.  Hence 
the  development  of  their  drama  was  compara- 
tively rapid,  and  it  was  only  a  relatively  short 
time  between  the  plays  with  a  serious  religious 
purpose  and  the  plays  for  pleasure.  Probably, 
at  first,  as  we  have  seen  in  a  previous  chapter, 
the  exploits  of  the  gods  were  told  in  a  manner 
similar  to  that  employed  by  the  Polynesians  and 
other  savage  peoples.  However,  there  seems  to  be 
little  doubt  that  between  these  crude  stories  and 
the  plays  of  iEschylus,  Euripides,  and  Sophocles 

'  B.  Matthews,  "Development  of  the  Drama,"  pp.  n  fF. 


234    I^HE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

there  must  have  been  an  intermediate  step  of 
which  we  have  no  record,  for  it  seems  impos- 
sible to  conceive  of  this  highest  form  of  Htera- 
ture  springing  directly  from  the  crude  attempts  of 
a  primitive  people.^  No  savage  tribes  have  a 
literature  of  this  sort,  but  it  is  logical  to  con- 
clude that  if  they  had  been  left  to  themselves 
they  would  have  developed  one,  for  they  possess 
the  attributes  necessary  for  such  a  production. 
They  have  the  dramatic,  the  poetic,  and  the 
imaginative  feelings,  and  to  these  need  only  be 
added  the  art  of  writing,  and  the  basis  for  a 
dramatic  literature  is  laid.  However,  before 
this  occurs  the  culture  of  other  races  shall  come 
to  them  so  that  the  opportunity  for  developing 
a  pure  native  literature  will  be  lost. 

Thus  we  see  that  there  are  practically  no 
races  so  low  in  the  scale  of  civilization  as  not  to 
have  the  drama  in  some  form.  There  are  three 
stages  in  its  development:  first,  when  its  purpose 
is  to  convey  definite  meaning,  and  is  used  at  a 
time  when  the  spoken  language  is  inadequate; 
second,  when  its  purpose  is  entirely  religious  and 
when  its  performance  enables  the  people  to 
communicate  with  the  gods  and  spirits;  and 
third,    when    the    religious    element    drops    out, 

'  Harrison,  "Themis,"  p.  334. 


PLEASURE  PLAYS  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE     235 

leaving  only  the  shell  whose  object  is  merely 
to  amuse  those  before  whom  it  is  performed. 
To  the  savage  this  latter  stage  is  of  the  least 
importance,  for  nothing  very  definite  is  accom- 
plished by  it,  but  to  the  civilized  man  it  forms 
the  greatest  height  to  which  the  drama  has  yet 
reached.  In  these  pleasure  plays  of  the  savage 
we  are  able  to  get  the  closest  connection  between 
the  drama  of  a  low  and  that  of  a  high  civiliza- 
tion. 


SUMMARY 


CHAPTER  VIII 
SUMMARY 

OF  all  the  arts  which  the  world  has 
known,  that  of  the  drama  is  one  of  the 
most  widespread  —  and  by  drama  we 
here  include  not  only  the  higher  stages  in  its 
development,  but  also  the  first  efforts  of  savage 
man  to  express  his  ideas  by  a  crude  pantomime. 
There  are  no  races  so  low  in  the  scale  of  civiliza- 
tion that  mimicry  does  not  play  some  part  in 
the  lives  of  the  people.  In  regard  to  this  growth 
of  the  drama  from  its  simple  beginnings  up  to 
modern  times.  Professor  Brander  Matthews  says: 
"The  dramaturgic  faculty  is  evolved  slowly 
with  the  growth  of  civilization;  and  play-making 
skill  is  one  of  the  latest  of  human  accomplish- 
ments. But  the  rudimentary  effort  is  every- 
where visible,  even  among  the  most  primitive 
peoples.  As  we  consider  the  history  of  human 
progress,  we  perceive  that  the  drama  is  almost 
the  very  earliest  of  the  arts,  as  early,  perhaps, 
as  the  art  of  personal  adornment;  and  we 
discover,  also,  that  it  is  the  very  latest  to  attain 


240    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

its  complete  expression.  Only  among  the  races 
which  may  be  exceptionally  endowed  with  energy 
of  imagination  and  with  power  of  construction 
does  the  drama  arrive  at  its  highest  possibility 
of  achievement.  In  these  rare  cases  it  is  the 
splendid  expression  of  the  special  gifts  of 
these  races;  it  is  the  sublime  summit  of  their 
literatures.  But  in  the  noblest  work  of  the 
Greek  dramatists,  and  in  the  most  powerful 
plays  of  the  Elizabethans,  the  same  principles 
are  applied  which  we  discover  doubtlessly  in 
the  rudest  theatrical  attempts  of  the  lowest 
savages. 

"It  is  out  of  crude  efforts,  such  as  may  still 
be  observed  among  the  Eskimo  and  the  tribes 
of  the  Amazon,  that  the  dramatic  art  was  toil- 
fully  developed  by  our  own  predecessors  as  taste 
refined  and  civilization  advanced.  The  tradi- 
tions of  these  rude  play-makers  were  passed 
down  from  generation  to  generation,  and  the 
art  slowly  discovered  itself.  The  true  dramatist 
is  like  the  true  statesman  in  recognizing  that 
nothing  survives  which  is  not  a  development  of 
institutions   already   existing."  ^ 

It  must  be  remembered  that  in  a  very  large 
number    of   the    dramatic    performances    of   the 

*  Brander  Matthews,  "The  Development  of  the  Drama,"  pp.  6  fF. 


SUMMARY  241 

savages  we  have  present  merely  the  germ  of  an 
art  which  is  later  to  develop  into  a  much  more 
perfected  form.  The  same  relationship  exists 
between  the  drama  of  these  primitive  people  and 
that  of  a  later  time,  as  exists  between  the  rough 
stone  hatchet  and  the  steel  ax  of  civilized  man. 
The  cruder  forms  must  always  precede  the  more 
complex.  In  tracing  social  evolution  we  do  not 
ignore  the  rough  chipped  stone  hatchet  because 
it  is  not  as  perfect  as  one  made  of  steel,  nor 
should  we  ignore  the  early  dramatic  attempts  of 
the  savage,  although  they  may  consist  merely 
in  the  imitation  of  the  actions  of  animals.  In 
the  case  of  the  hatchet  and  in  the  case  of  the 
drama  we  should  take  the  evidence  carefully 
into  account,  for  only  by  so  doing  are  we  able 
to  realize  the  history  of  our  civilization. 

A  comparison  of  the  three  typical  periods  of 
dramatic  development  cited  before,  will  tend  to 
bring  together  many  of  the  ideas  which  have 
been  set  forth  in  the  preceding  pages.  An  axiom 
upon  which  all  the  history  of  the  drama  is  based, 
is  the  fact  that  the  desire  to  imitate  is  a  uni- 
versal human  trait,  although  it  does  not  appear 
to  the  same  degree  among  all  races  of  men.  It  is 
probable  that  this  was  almost  as  unconscious  as 
the  squinting  of  a  young  child  when  some  one  near 


^ 


242    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

by  squints,  or  the  clapping  of  the  hands  together 
as  the  person  whom  it  is  watching  does.  Evi- 
dence seems  to  prove  that  the  first  practical 
use  to  which  the  savage  put  imitation  (for  it 
was  then  too  simple  to  come  under  the  head  of 
drama)  was  to  convey  to  his  friends  ideas  and 
thoughts  for  which  his  inadequate  spoken  lan- 
guage had  no  words.  This  may  be  called 
dramatic  narrative.  Concerning  this  matter  Miss 
Harrison  says,  "When  a  tribe  comes  back  from 
war  or  from  hunting,  or  even  from  a  journey, 
from  any  experience  in  fact  that  from  novelty 
or  intensity  causes  strong  emotion,  the  men  will, 
if  successful,  recount  and  dance  their  experiences 
to  the  women  and  children  at  home.  Such  a 
dance  we  should  scarcely  call  religious,  but  when 
the  doings  of  dead  chiefs  in  the  past  or  ancestors 
are  commemorated,  when  the  dance  is  made 
public  and  social  and  causes  strong  emotion,  it 
takes  on  a  religious  color.  The  important  point 
to  note  is  that  the  hunting,  fighting  or  what 
not,  the  thing  done  is  never  religious;  the  thing 
redone  with  heightened  emotion  is  on  the  way 
to  become  so.  The  element  of  action  redone, 
imitated,  the  element  of  ixijxriaLS  is,  I  think, 
essential.  In  all  religion,  as  in  all  art,  there 
is    this   element   of   make-believe.     Not    the  at- 


SUMMARY  243 

tempt    to    deceive,    but    a    desire    to   re-live,    to 
represent."  ^ 

The  next  use  to  which  we  see  the  savages 
putting  the  drama  is  in  connection  with  their 
rehgion.  As  their  gods  and  spirits  were  at  one 
time  human,  it  is  only  natural  that  they  should 
use,  as  a  means  of  presenting  their  petitions,  a 
language  which  the  dwellers  in  the  other  world 
could  understand,  for  they  had  used  it  on  this 
earth  when  they  were  alive.  The  basis  of  most 
of  the  savage  religious  drama  is  sympathetic 
magic.  All  the  animal  ceremonies  which  play 
so  important  a  part  among  many  peoples,  and 
the  plant  ceremonies  so  widely  spread  among 
those  races  who  are  partially  dependent  upon 
a  vegetable  diet,  have  as  their  dominant  motive 
sympathetic  magic.  So  hard  is  the  struggle 
for  existence  among  the  majority  of  the  savage 
peoples,  that  their  minds  are  scarcely  raised 
above  the  actual  getting  of  food.  They  gather 
what  few  plants  they  can,  but  their  main  article 
of  diet  is  the  animal.  Practically  the  earliest 
dramatic  religious  ceremonies  are  in  connection 
with  the  animals,  and  they  long  persisted.  As 
we  have  seen,  with  the  exception  of  the  war 
ceremonies  and  a  very  few  others,  most  of  the 

'  Harrison,  "Themis,"  p.  43. 


244    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

acting  has  had  to  do  in  some  way  with  animal 
Hfe.  It  is  only  when  a  higher  stage  of  culture 
is  entered  upon  and  the  minds  of  the  people 
are  raised  above  the  actual  getting  of  food  that 
we  find  the  form  and  theme  of  the  drama 
changing.  The  plays  of  the  Greeks  and  those 
in  the  Middle  Ages  do  not  have  this  animal 
element  to  any  extent;  whereas  but  few  savage 
people,  as  far  as  we  have  been  able  to  discover, 
have  reached  that  stage  where  it  does  not  appear 
in  some  form  during  their  entertainments.  We 
even  see  it  among  some  of  the  peoples  of  high 
civilization  in  Mexico  and  Peru,  though  to  a 
less  extent  than  in  other  places. 

The  Initiation  Ceremonies,  especially  in  the 
countries  where  the  totem  has  an  important 
part,  show  another  form  taken  by  the  religious 
drama.  The  history  of  the  totem  (mainly 
animals  often  regarded  as  tribal  ancestors  of 
the  far  distant  past,  and  thus  closely  related  to 
their  religion)  is  shown  to  the  boys  in  the  little 
plays  which  have  been  made  up  for  that  purpose. 
In  these  initiation  ceremonies  the  boys  are 
not  only  taught  the  morals  of  their  group,  but 
are  also  instructed  in  the  secular  history  of 
their  people.  But  totem  ceremonies,  especially 
in  Australia,  have  much  more  important  functions 


SUMMARY  245 

than  merely  teaching  the  boys  their  history.  As 
the  totem  plants  and  animals  form  the  chief 
food  supply  it  is  important  that  the  boys  know 
the  ceremonies  whereby  these  may  be  obtained. 

The  acting  out  of  historical  events  by  savage 
peoples  corresponds  very  closely  to  the  pageants 
which  frequently  take  place  in  civilized  com- 
munities. The  purpose  in  each  case  is  to  teach 
the  people  through  a  visual  presentation  about 
their  own  past.  A  great  difference  lies  in  the 
fact  that  among  the  savages  the  religious  ele- 
ment forms  the  background  to  nearly  all  of 
their  drama.  This  element  may  be  compared 
to  a  single  fixed  scene  on  a  stage  before  which 
as  a  background,  tragedy,  comedy,  farce,  and 
opera  are  acted  and  sung.  The  historical  savage 
drama  finds  in  these  civilized  pageants  a  closer 
relationship  .  than  in  almost  any  other  form  of 
drama.  In  both,  the  acting  is  the  dominant 
motive,  while  the  lines,  if  they  appear  at  all, 
are   supplementary. 

Another  serious  purpose  to  which  the  religious 
drama  is  put,  appears  in  some  of  the  war  cere- 
monies, where  requests  through  the  agency  of 
sympathetic  magic  are  presented  to  the  gods  so 
that  in  the  coming  struggle  the  petitioners  may 
come  off  conquerors. 


246    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

In  comparing  the  dramas  of  Greece  and  the 
Middle  Ages  with  those  of  the  savages  we  have 
seen  that  they  have  many  elements  in  common. 
The  Greek  drama  started  with  sympathetic 
magic  vegetation  rites,  which,  after  many  changes 
and  ramifications,  appeared  in  the  form  of  the 
plays  of  the  great  dramatists.  When  we  reach 
the  Middle  Ages  we  again  find  the  rebirth  of 
the  drama  in  religion,  but  of  less  importance 
than  in  either  of  the  other  two  stages.  It  is 
true  that  the  drama  was  used  at  first  to  a  certain 
extent  as  an  act  of  worship,  but  it  had  a  very 
much  more  serious  purpose  in  that  it  was  in- 
tended to  instruct  the  people  concerning  the 
Bible,  which  they  were  unable  to  read  for  them- 
selves. It  is  interesting  to  trace  the  drama  in 
the  Church,  from  the  time  when  almost  uncon- 
sciously it  was  used  to  worship,  down  to  the 
much  later  secularizations.  The  mass  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church  was  and  is  **an  essen- 
tially dramatic  commemoration  of  one  of  the 
most  critical  moments  in  the  life  of  the  Founder. 
It  is  his  very  acts  and  words  that  day  by  day 
throughout  the  year  the  officiating  priest  re- 
sumes in  the  face  of  the  people.  And  when  the 
conceptions  of  the  mass  developed  until,  instead 
of   a    mere    symbolical    commemoration,    it    was 


SUMMARY  247 

looked  upon  as  an  actual  repetition  of  the  initial 
sacrifice,  the  dramatic  character  was  only  in- 
tensified." ^ 

Some  of  the  festival  seasons,  such  as  Good 
Friday,  Easter  Sunday,  and  Christmas,  were 
chosen  by  the  Church  for  graphically  portraying 
during  the  service,  scenes  from  the  New  Testa- 
ment appropriate  to  the  particular  season. 
During  these  little  plays  songs  would  be  sung 
explaining  the  various  actions  of  the  characters.^ 
In  these  latter  we  see  the  tendency  away  from 
absolute  worship,  as  in  the  case  of  the  mass, 
towards  the  plays  given  for  the  instruction  of 
the  people.  As  time  went  on,  the  production 
became  so  elaborate  that  for  the  performance, 
they  needed  not  only  the  space  around  the  altar, 
but  also  part  of  the  transepts  and  the  nave. 
Later,  when  it  became  necessary  to  increase  the 
performance  in  size,  the  church  proved  too  small 
and  so  they  had  recourse  to  the  porch  before 
the  west  door,  to  the  graveyard,  or  to  the 
neighboring    market-place. 

Not  only  did  the  absolute  separation  from  the 
actual  worship  take  place,  but   also  the  subject- 

*  E.  K.  Chambers,  "The  Mediaeval  Stage,"  Vol.  II,  pp.  3  ff. 
'  For  a  full  discussion  of  these  church  dramas  see  E.  K.  Chambers, 
"The  Mediaeval  Stage." 


248    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

matter  of  the  now  well-developed  plays  changed 
in  a  striking  manner.  Material  was  obtained 
from  the  Old  Testament,  so  that  there  appeared 
such  plays  as  "Adam  and  Eve,"  and  "Cain 
and  Abel."  These  finally  became  so  secular 
that  the  Church  refused  to  have  anything  more 
to  do  with  them  and  thus  closed  upon  the  drama 
the  doors  of  religious  interest. 

There  are  some  striking  analogies  to  be  drawn 
between  the  drama  of  the  savages  and  that  of 
the  Middle  Ages.  It  was  used  by  both  at  a 
very  early  stage  purely  as  an  act  of  worship, 
the  difference  being  that  the  savage  was  asking 
for  very  definite  material  aid,  while  the  more 
civilized  man  was  petitioning  for  spiritual  salva- 
tion, and  trying  to  propitiate  the  deity  by  adora- 
tion. In  the  initiation  ceremonies  the  boys  were 
taught  the  history  of  their  people,  and  also  the  mor- 
ality of  their  tribe.  The  priests  of  the  later  culture 
instructed  the  people  in  the  Bible  history  through 
the  Mystery  Plays  ^  and  by  the  dramatic  scenes 
from  the  Old  Testament,  and  tried  to  raise 
their  standard  of  virtue  through  the  Morality 
Plays,  in  which  the  actors  showed  the  continual 
struggle  between  the  Virtues  and  the   Vices. ^ 

1  Chambers,  "The  Mediaeval  Stage."  For  a  history  of  the  Miracle 
Plays,  see  Dr.  Karl  Hase,  "Miracle  Plays  and  Sacred  Dramas." 

2  C.  F.  T.  Brooke,  "The  Tudor  Drama." 


SUMMARY  249 

Thus  we  see  that  the  stages  through  which 
the  savages,  the  Greeks,  and  the  people  of  the 
Middle  Ages  passed  in  the  development  of  their 
dramas  are  in  many  respects  similar.  It  is 
true  that  the  attempts  of  the  savages  are  very 
much  cruder  than  those  of  the  other  two,  and 
they  have  developed  little  dramatic  literature; 
nevertheless  a  study  of  their  actions  is  important 
as  showing  the  lower  stages  in  the  evolutionary 
development  of  the  drama, 

A  passage  from  Professor  Matthews  may  serve 
to  summarize  a  number  of  points  emphasized  in 
the  preceding  pages.  "It  is  from  the  observa- 
tion of  children  and  from  the  study  of  savages 
that  the  comparative  anthropologist  has  been 
able  to  throw  so  much  light  on  the  earlier  stages 
of  human  progress.  Professor  Grosse,  in  his 
illuminating  discussion  of  the  'Beginnings  of 
Art,'  points  out  that  pure  narrative  'requires 
a  command  of  language  and  of  one's  body  which 
is  rarely  found,'  and  that  'children  and  primitive 
peoples  likewise  are  indeed  unable  to  make  any 
narration  without  accompanying  it  with  the 
appropriate  demeanor  and  play  of  gesture.'  Pro- 
fessor Grosse  notes  that  common  usage  means 
by  a  drama,  'not  the  relation  of  an  event 
enlivened    by    mimicry,    but    its    direct    mimic 


250    THE  DRAMA  OF  SAVAGE  PEOPLE 

and  verbal  representation  by  several  persons'; 
and  he  asserts  the  existence  of  this  in  even  the 
lowest  stages  of  culture.  He  recognizes  as  one 
root  of  a  more  elaborate  drama  the  duet  of  the 
Greenlanders,  for  example,  in  which  'the  two 
singers  are  not  only  relating  their  adventure, 
but  are  representing  it  by  mimic  gestures'; 
and  he  finds  a  second  source  in  the  mimic 
dance.  Out  of  one  or  the  other  a  true  drama 
gets  itself  evolved  at  last;  and  its  slow  rise  in 
the  dramatic  scale  is  in  strict  proportion  to  the 
rise  of  the  people  itself  in  the  scale  of  civiliza- 
tion. The  form  is  enlarged  and  enriched;  it 
expands  in  various  directions;  it  will  lack  liter- 
ature for  long  years,  until  at  last  there  arrives 
a  dramatic  poet  who  takes  the  form  as  he  finds 
it,  with  all  its  imperfections  and  inconsistencies. 
He  accepts  it  without  hesitation,  certain  that  it 
will  serve  his  purpose,  since  it  has  already  proved 
that  it  is  satisfactory  to  the  contemporaries 
whom  he  has  to  please.  In  time,  after  he  has 
mastered  the  form  as  he  has  received  it  from 
his  predecessors,  he  makes  it  his  own  and  re- 
models it  to  his  increasing  needs,  when  he  has 
gained  confidence  in  himself,  and  when  he  has 
broadened  his  outlook  on  life."  ^ 

*  Matthews,  "Development  of  the  Drama,"  pp.  8-10. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

[the  figures  refer  to  the  pages  of  this  book] 


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"Poetics,"  II,  97,  102,  127. 

B 

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"The  Aztecs,"  6,  219. 
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"  Report  of  the  National  Museum  (1895),"  175. 
Bonwick,  J. 

"Daily  Life  of  the  Tasmanians,"  43. 
Borup,  G. 

Lecture,  41. 
Bourke,  J.  G. 

"Snake  Dance  of  the  Moquis  of  Arizona,"  80. 
Brinkley,  F. 

"Japan,  Its    History,    Art    and    Literature," 
Vol.  Ill,   116,  117,  118,  120. 
Brooke,  C.  F.  T. 

"The  Tudor  Drama,"  248. 
251 


252  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Brown,  G. 

"Mclanesians  and  Polynesians,"  152. 
Brown,  R. 

"The  Races  of  Mankind,"  Vol.  I,  194,  199. 
Buckham,  P.  W. 

"Theatre  of  the  Greeks,"  6,  13,  97,  106,  107. 
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Part  I,  202. 
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"City  of  the  Saints,"  16. 
Butcher,  S.  H. 

"Aristotle's  Theory  of  Poetry  and  Fine  Arts,"  11. 

C 

Cameron,  A.  L. 

"Tribes  of  New  South  Wales,"  14  J.  A.  I.,  139. 
Campbell,  L. 

"Religion  in  Greek  Literature,"  97. 
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"The  Melanesians,"  9. 
Cook's  Voyages,  197. 
Crampton,  H. 

Lecture,  223. 
Gushing,  F.  H. 

"Zufii  Folk  Tales,"  49. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  253 

D 

Dawson,  J. 

"Australian  Aborigines,"  192. 
Dewey,  John 

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Donaldson,  J.  W. 

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Dorsey,  G.  A. 

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Vol.  II,  "The  Sun  Dance,"  90. 
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Dorsey  and  Voth 

"  Mishongovoni   Ceremonies   of  the   Snake   and   Antelope 
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Edwards,  O. 

"Japanese  Plays  and  Playfellows,"   116. 
Elliott,  G.  F.  S. 

"Romance  of  Savage  Life,"  26,  168. 
EUis,  A.  B. 

"The  Tshi-speaking  Peoples  of  the  Gold  Coast  of  West 
Africa,"  170,  176. 

"Polynesian  Research,"  Vol.  I,  176,  231. 
Ellis,  Havelock 

"The   Philosophy  of  Dancing,"   Atlantic   Monthly,   Feb. 
1914,  184,  1H6. 
Encyclopaedia  Britannica 

"Philology"  (Peter  Giles),  15,  16. 

F 

Farrand,  L. 

"  Basis  of  American  History,"  90. 


254  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Fewkes,  J.  W. 

"A  Theatrical  Performance  at  Walpi," 

Proc.  Wash.  Acad,  of  Sciences,  Dec.  28,  1900,  Vol.  II, 
211. 
"Snake  Ceremonies  at  Walpi," 

Journal    of  American    Ethnology  and  Archaeology,  IV 
(1894),  80. 
"Aborigines  of  Porto  Rico," 

Bureau  of  Ethnology  Report,   1903-4,   166. 
Fletcher,  A.  C. 

"The  Sun  Dance  of  the  Ogalalla  Sioux," 
Proc.  A.  A.  A.  S.,  Vol.  31  (1882),  90. 
Foucart,  P. 

"Le  Culte  de  Dionysus  en  Attique,"  96,  97. 
Frazer,  J.  G. 

"Golden  Bough,"  Vol.  I  (1911),  73. 
Vol.  II,  24. 

Vol.  Ill  (1900),  137,  139,  140,  141. 
"Adonis,  Attis,  Osiris,"  96,  97. 
"Spirits  of  the  Corn  and  of  the  Wild,"  97. 
Fynn,  A.  J. 

"The  American  Indian   as   a   Product  of   Environment," 
80,  90. 

G 

Gason,  S. 

"The  Dieyerie  Tribe-Native  Tribes  of  South    Australia," 
72. 
GironiSre,  de  la 

"Adventures   d'un   Gentilhomme    breton   aux   iles    Philip- 
pines," 193. 
Clave,  E. 

"Six  Years  of  Adventure  in  Congo  Land,"   197. 
Godden,  G.  M. 

"Naga  and  Other  Frontier  Tribes  of  North  East    India," 
27  J.  A.  I.,    169. 
Gomes,  E.  H. 

"Seventeen  Years  Among  the  Sea  Dyalcs  of  Borneo,"  165. 
Groos,  K. 

"The  Play  of  Animals,"  7. 

"The  Play  of  Man,"  9,  10,  11,  12,  184. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  255 

Grosse,  E. 

"The  Beginnings  of  Art,"  54,   98,  99,  121,   122,   161,  184, 
189,  230. 

H 

Haddon,  A.  C. 

"Head  Hunters,"  43,  54,  164,  193. 
"Magic  and  Fetishism,"  47. 
Haigh,  A.  E. 

"The  Attic  Theatre,"  59,  97,  loi,  103,  104,  106,  108,  iii, 
120,  121,  127,  230. 
Harrison,  J.  E. 

"Ancient  Art  and  Ritual,"  97,  102,  161,  175. 
"Themis,"   19,  97,   130,   131,  234,  243. 
Hartford  Times,  Nov.  15,  1913,  90. 
Hartland,  E.  S. 

"The  Science  of  Fairy  Tales,"  200. 
Hase,  Karl 

"Miracle   Plays  and   Sacred    Dramas,"   245. 
Hawkes,  E.  W. 

"The   'Inviting  In'     Feast    of    the    Alaskan     Eskimos," 
Canadian    Geological    Survey,    Memoire    45,    No.    3, 
Anthrop.  Series,  55. 
Herbertson,  A.  J.  and  F.  D. 

"Man  and  His  Work,"  34,  65,  66. 
Hodson,  T.  C. 

"The  Naga  Tribes  of  Manipur,"   169. 
Howitt,  A.  W. 

"Australian  Ceremonies,"  13  J.  A.  I.,  192. 

"The    Dieri    and    Other    Kindred    Tribes    of  South    East 

Australia,"  20  J.  A.  I.,  72. 
"Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,"   129. 
"Native  Tribes  of  South  East  Australia,"  49,  50,  72,  130, 
132,   133,  227. 

I 
Indian  Office  Regulations,  90. 
Inge,  W.  R. 

"Society  in  Rome  Under  the  Caesars,"  231. 


256  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

J 

James,  J.  W. 

"Indians  of  the  Painted  Desert,"  73,  80,  82. 
Jewett 

Narratives  of  the  Adventures  and  Sufferings  of  John  N. , 
137,  202. 
Johnston,  H.  H. 

"Uganda  Protectorate,"  Vol.  II,  17,  170,  187. 
Jones,  Peter 

"History  of  the  Ojibway  Indians,"  24. 

K 
Kay,  Charles  de 

"  Bird  Gods,"  200. 
Keane,  A.  H. 

"Man  Past  and  Present,"   138. 
Keating,  W.  H. 

"Narrative  of  an  Expedition  to  the  Source  of  St.  Peter's 
River,"  Vol.  II,  24. 
Keller,  A.  G. 

"Homeric  Society,"  53. 
Krieger,  M. 

"Neu-Guinea,"  193. 

L 

Lang,  A. 

"Custom  and  Myth,"  130. 

"Myth,  Ritual,  and  Religion,"  Vol.  I,  36,  56,  96,  97,  134. 
Levy-Briihl,  L, 

"Les  Fonctions  Mentales  dans  le  Societes  Inferieures,"  54. 
Lippert,  J. 

"  Kulturgeschichte  der  Menschheit,"  Vol.  II,  65. 
Lubbock,  Sir  John 

"Origin  of  Civilization,"   16,  48. 
Lumholtz,  C. 

"Unknown  Mexico,"  Vol.  I,  68. 

M 
McCook,  Maj.-Gen. 

S  American  Anthropologist,  73. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  257 


MacDonald,  J. 

"Religion  and  Myth,"  68. 
Magnin,  Charles 

"Origines  du  Theatre  Moderne,"   11,  51. 
Mangham,  R.  C.  F. 

"Zambezia,"  47. 
Mannhardt,  "W. 

"Antike  Wald  —  und  Feldkulte,"  68. 
Mantzius,  K. 

"A  History  of  Theatrical  Art,"  Vol.  I,  100,  103,  106,  114, 
116,  117,  119,  193. 
Matthews,  B. 

"  Development  of  the  Drama,"  233,  240,  250. 
Matthews,  R.  H. 

"  Keeparra  Ceremony  of  Initiation,"  26  J.  A.  I.,  139. 
Mission  Scientifique  du  Cap  Horn,  VII,  196. 
Moerenhout,  J. 

"Voyages  aux  lies  du  Grand  Ocean,"  Vol.  I,  175. 
Mooney,  J. 

"Bulletin  Bureau  American  Ethnology,"  Part  I,  183. 
Morgan,  L. 

"League  of  the  Iroquois,"  168,  170,  201. 
Morice,  A.  G. 

"Transactions  of  the  Canadian   Institute,"   IV  (1892-3), 
140. 
Morse,  Jedediah 

"  Henry's    Travels   Among   the    Northern    and     Western 
Indians,"   24. 


N 
Nansen,  F. 

"Eskimo  Life,"  184. 
Nead,  C.  H. 

"Some  Spinning  Tops  from  Torres   Straits,"  17  J.  A.  I., 

54- 
Nelson,  E.  W. 

"Eskimo  of  Behring  Strait,"  Bureau  of  Ethnology  Report 
(1896-7),  Vol.  I,  S5>  56,  184,  189. 


258  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

P 

Palmer,  E. 

"Notes  on  Some  Australian  Tribes,"  13  J.  A.  I.,  226. 
Parker,  K.  L. 

"The  Euahlayi  Tribe,"  52,  226. 
Parkinson,  R. 

"Im  Bismarck  Archipel,"  68. 
Pond,  G.  H. 

"Dakota's  Sun  Dance,"  Minnesota  Historical  Collections, 
Vol.  II,  90. 

"Dakota  Superstitions,"  Minnesota  Historical  Collections, 
for  1867,  141. 
Pullen-Burry,  B. 

"In  a  German  Colony,"  43. 
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R 

Ratzel,  F. 

"History  of  Mankind,"  Vol.  II,  41. 
Reade,  W. 

"Savage  Africa,"  188. 
Ridgeway,  W. 

"Origin  of  Tragedy,"  9,  167,  182. 
Romanes,  G.  R. 

"Animal  Intelligence,"  7. 
Roth,  H.  Ling 

"Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,"  Vol.  I, 
169. 
Roth,  W.  E. 

"Ethnological    Studies    Among    the    North-West-Central 
Queensland  Aborigines,"  73. 


S 
St.  John,  H. 

"Hill  Tribes  of  North  Aracan,"  2  J.  A.  I.,  191. 
Sapir,  E. 

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BIBLIOGRAPHY  259 

Sayce,  A. 

"Development  of  Language,"  \^oI.   I,   15. 
Scott,  H.  L.,  Maj.-Gen. 

"Notes  on   the  Kado,  or  Sun  Dance  of  the    Kiowa,"  89; 
13  American  Anthropologist,  90. 
Lettjer,  18. 
Seymour,  T.  D. 

"Life  in  the  Homeric  Age,"  53. 
Skinner,  A. 

"  Political    Organization,    Cults    and    Ceremonies    of   the 
Plains-Ojibway  and    Plains-Cree   Indians,"  Report  of 
the  American  Museum  of  Natural   History,  Vol.  XI, 
Part  VI  (1914),  41. 
Smyth,  R.  B. 

"Aborigines  of  Victoria,"  Vol.  I,  72,  187,  192,  230. 
Spencer,  Herbert 

"Principles  of  Psychology,"  Vol.  I,  7. 
"  Principles  of  Sociology,"  Vol.  I,  16,  21. 

Vol.  Ill,  176,  178. 

Spencer  and  Gillen 

"Across  Australia,"  160. 

"Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,"  26,  27,  36,  39,  41, 
45,  47,  52,  126,  130,  136,  145,  147,  148,  160. 

"The  Northern  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,"  36. 
Spix  and  Martins 

"  Reise  in  Brazilien,"  Vol.  I,  17. 
Stopes,  M.  C. 

"  The  Plays  of  Old  Japan,"  —  The  '  No',"  57,  77,  1 16,  1 19, 
120. 
Stephen,  A.  M. 

"  Paliilakonti  —  A  Tuscayan  Ceremony," 

Journal  American  Folklore  (1893),  211,  257. 
Stowe,  G.  W. 

"The  Native  Races  of  South  Africa,"  187,  188. 
Sumner,  W.  G. 

"  Folkways,"  97. 
SuUy,  J. 

"Studies  in  Childhood,"   10,   11. 


26o  BIBLIOGRAPHY 


T 
Talbot,  P.  T. 

"In  the  Shadow  of  the  Bush,"  187. 
Theocritus 

"  Dialogues,"  24. 
Thomas,  N.  W. 

"The  Natives  of  Australia,"  10. 

"Australia,"  230. 
Thomas,  W.  I. 

"Decennial   Publications  of  the   University  of  Chicago," 
First  Series    (4)  136,  216. 

"Sex  and  Society,"  158. 

"Source  Book  for  Social  Origins,"   128,   136,   189,  230. 
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Toplin,  G. 

"The  Narrinyeri,"  192. 
Tout,  C.  H. 

"Streelis  and  Skanlets  Tribes  of  British  Columbia," 
34  J.  A.  I.,  191. 
Tregear,  E. 

"The  Maori  Race,"  38. 
Tylor,  E.  B. 

"Anthropology,"  21,  49,  174,  225. 

"Primitive  Culture,"  9,  83. 

V 
Vega,  Garcilasso  de  la 

"Royal  Commentaries  of  Peru,"  216. 

W 
Walker,  M.  C. 

"  Bird  Legend  and  Life,"  200. 
Wallaschek,  R. 

"Primitive  Music,"  169,  188,  193,  194,  199. 
Webster,  H. 

"Primitive  Secret  Societies,"  36,  49,   128,   129,   130,   134, 
142,  148,  152,  176,  196,  197. 
Weeks,  J.  H. 

"Among  the  Congo  Cannibals,"  187. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  261 


Whitney,  W.  D. 

"Language  and  the  Study  of  Language,"  14. 
Wilken,  G.  A. 

"  Volkenkunde,"  57,  207,  216,  222,  232. 
Wood,  J.  G. 

"Natural  History  of  Man,"  Vol.  I,  188. 

Vol.  II,  187,  192,  199. 


INDEX 

[authors'   names  are  given   in  the   bibliography] 


Acting,  a  language,  165. 
Acting  profession,  107. 
Actions  of  animals,  218. 
Actions    of    animals    mimicked, 

190. 
Actors,  peasant,  182. 
Actors,  professional,  219. 
"Adam  and  Eve,"  248. 
Adonis,  96. 
Adoration,  109. 
Adrastus,  181. 
yEschylus,  59,  96,  219,  233. 
iEschylus'  Agamemnon,  166. 
iEschylus'  Persae,  167. 
Africa,  41,  187. 
Africa,  Congo  of,  197. 
Africa,  Pygmies  of,  17. 
Agriculture,  33,  34,  36,  65,  67, 

91,92,  191. 
Agriculturist,  210. 
Aht    Indians    of    Northwestern 

America,  198. 
Alcheringa,  146,  147. 
Aleatory  element,  158. 
Aleutian  Islands,  people  of,  199, 

200. 
Algonquins,  200. 
Altar,  87,  99,  102,  no,  209,  247. 
Amazon,  tribes  of,  240. 
America,  35,  41,  67,  68. 
America,  Northwest,  140. 
American  Indians,  60,  182,  183, 

191,  197. 
Amphictyonic  Council,  105,  106. 


Anachrasis,  126. 

Ancestors,  69,  86,  128,  145,  146, 

225. 
Ancestors,  animal,  146. 
Ancestors  in  Japan,  118. 
Ancestors,  spirits  of,  81,  132. 
Andaman  Islands,  220,  230. 
Andaman  Islands,  Choregus  in, 

104. 
Animal,  23,  54. 
Animal  ancestors,  146,  244. 
Animal  ceremonies,  37,  157. 
Animal  dance,  72,  128,  194. 
Animal  imitations,  128,  228. 
Animal  love  dance,  185. 
Animal  spirits,  40. 
Animism,  4. 
Antelope  peoples,  74,  76,  77,  78, 

80. 
Antelope  priest,  81. 
Anthropomorphic,  23,  97. 
Antigone,  166. 
Arabia,  13. 
Arabs,  222. 
Arapahoes,  16,  88. 
Archon,  232. 
Aristotle,  102. 
Aristophanes,  96. 
Aristophanes,  Frogs  of,  108. 
Arunta  quabara,  141. 
Arunta  tribe,  146. 
Art,  121,  122. 
Ashikaga     Shogun     Yoshimitsu, 

117. 


263 


264 


INDEX 


Athenians,  106,  no,  126,  127. 
Athens,  106,  107,  108. 
Audience,  181,  233. 
AustraUa,  9,  25,  26,  34,  35,  38, 

41,  44,  49,  66,  67,  70,  126,  130, 

131,  142,  152,   159,  177,   186, 

220,  225,  227,  244. 
Australia,  Choregus  in,  104. 
Australian  corroborees,  128. 
Australian  Youth,  127. 
Australians,  37,  60,  121,  131,  132, 

134.   140.   153.   160,   182,   191, 

196,  226. 
Author,  103. 
Aztecs,  6,  216,  217. 

Baboon  dance,  188. 

Bacchic  Chorus,  103. 

Ballet,  219. 

Banvon,  225. 

Battle,  18,  19,  27. 

Battle,  success  in,  109. 

Bear  totem,  140. 

Behring  Strait,  54. 

Bible,  233,  246. 

Bird  lore,  200. 

Bismarck  Archipelago,  148,  152. 

Borneo,  Sea  Dyaks  of,  164. 

Brazilian  tribes,  17. 

Buddhist  priests,  117,  1 18. 

Buffaloes,    48,    49,    86,    87,  89, 

141. 
Buffalo  dance,  201,  205. 
Buffoonery,  scenes  of,  218. 
Bull-dance,  141. 
Bull-roarers,  130,  131,  133. 
Burlesque,  226. 
Burlesque  imitations,  189. 
Bushmen,    16,   28,   60,   66,    134, 

188. 


Cagn,  188,  189. 

"Cain  and  Abel,"  248. 

Caishana  tribe  of  Brazil,  196. 

California  Indians,  191. 

Camp  fires,  99,  186. 

Canoe  dance,  186. 

Captain  Cook,  196. 

Cassowary,  150,  151. 

Cattle  raising,  65. 

Ceremonies,  14,  22,  25,  38,  125, 

127,  128,  129. 
Ceremonies,  animal,  37. 
Ceremonies,  dramatic,  135. 
Ceremonies,  fire,  147. 
Ceremonies,  rain,  67,  73,  74. 
Ceremonies,   religious,  27,  60. 
Ceremonies,  sacred,  147. 
Ceremonies,  sun,  82. 
Ceremonies,  sympathetic,  magic, 

26,  27,  121. 
Ceremonies,  totem,  26,  39. 
Ceremonies,  vegetation,  5,  61. 
Chants,  140. 
Cherokees,  201. 
Cheyenne,  85. 
Chief  priest,  133,  134. 
Children,  9,  11,  19,  20,  45. 
China,  actors  in,  117. 
China,  women  not  on  stage,  116. 
Chinese,  13,  222. 
Choerilus,  59. 
Choral  singing,  100. 
Choregi,  in. 

Choregus,  104,  214,  232,  233. 
Choreua,  loi,  105. 
Chorus,  100,  103,  104,  105,  113, 

120,  179,  196,  206,  232,  233. 
Chorus  of  women,  188. 
Choruses  of  women,  savage,  121. 
Christ,  182. 


INDEX 


265 


Christmas,  182,  247. 

Christian  Church,  181. 

Church,  247,  248. 

Church  dramas  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  178. 

Cinderella,  200. 

Circumcision,  4,  125,  147. 

Civil  War,  166. 

Clans,  128. 

Cogaz,  188,  189. 

Colorado  River,  Grand  Canyon 
of  the,  73. 

Columhus,  83. 

Columbians,  189. 

Comedy,  13,  50,  127,  196,  216, 
227,  245. 

Comic  pantomime,  192. 

Congo  of  Africa,  197. 

Congregation  as  passive  worship- 
pers, 176. 

Conscious  drama,  13. 

Corn,  204,  205. 

Corn  Maidens,  208,  211. 

Coroborees,  51,  128,  139,  228. 

Cortez,  217. 

Costumes,  83,  105,  no,  137,  152, 
232. 

Crops,  23,  112. 

Cult,  97. 

Cultivation,  66. 

Cultural  history,  201,  211. 

Cundinamarac,  83. 

Curtain,  20I,  203. 

Dakota  Indians,  140. 

Dalang,  212,  214,  215. 

Damaras,  188. 

Dance,  19,  26,  42,  52,  53,  55,  72, 
73,  75.  76,  83,  84,  87,  88,  97, 
98,    100,    loi,    113,    115,    118, 


134,  136,   146,   161,  176,  204, 

220,  242. 
Dance,  animal,  72,  128,  194. 
Dance,  baboon,  188. 
Dance,  buffalo,  201,  205. 
Dance,  bull,  141. 
Dance,  canoe,  186. 
Dance,  crab,  43. 
Dance,  emu,  43. 
Dance  of  Eskimos,  189. 
Dance,  fish-hawk,  191. 
Dance,  friendship,  189. 
Dance,  gymnastic,  98,  184,  187. 
Dance,  hate,  189. 
Dance,  Hornbill,  43. 
Dance,  hunting,  50,  191. 
Dance,  jealousy,  189. 
Dance,  Kangaroo,  43. 
Dance,  love,  43,  44,  189. 
Dance,  mimetic,  98,  99,  loi,  184. 
Dance,  primitive  origin  of,  186. 
Dance,  rain,  68. 
Dance,  snake,  68,  73,  75,  80,  81, 

86. 
Dance,  sun,  68,  84,  86,  88,  89,  90. 
Dance,  tragic,  loi. 
Dance,  war,  27,  158-170,  226. 
Dance,  women,  131. 
Dancers,  48,  102,  103,  141,  163, 

165,  169. 
Dances,  masked,  196. 
Dances,  mystic,  119. 
Dancing,  102,  143,  159,  175,  202, 

205,  206,  231. 
Dancing,    pantomimic,   49,    185, 

193. 
Dead,  spirits  of,  21,  22,  92. 
Deception,  11. 
Decoration,  128. 
Deities,  39. 


266 


INDEX 


Devil,  126. 

Dicacarchus,  108. 

Dieri  tribe,  70,  72. 

Dionysus,  96,  106,  in,  112,  232. 

Dionysiac  festival,  107. 

Dionysiac  worship,  59. 

Dithyramb,  179. 

Divine  Founder,  181. 

Dog,  145. 

D'Orbigny,  82. 

Drama  as  an  act  of  worship,  175, 

248. 
Dramatic  desire,  98. 
Dramatic  feeling,  234. 
Dramatic  literature,  249. 
Drama,  as  school  of  obedience, 

148. 
Dramatic  poet,  250. 
Dramatic  rites,  121. 
Drama,  religious,  71,  90,  178. 
Drama,  secular,  178. 
Drum,  88,  120,  121,  161,  162. 
Duk-Duk,  148,  152,  198. 

Eaglehawk,  227,  228,  230. 

Eagle-hawks,  135. 

Easter  Sunday,  182,  247. 

Education,  125. 

Effigies,  211. 

Egas    of    Northwestern     Brazil, 

196. 
Elders,  148. 

Elizabethan  drama,  98. 
Elizabethans,  240. 
Ellice  Islands,  224. 
Emu,  139,  196. 
Enemy,  22,  23. 
Epic,  poem,  219,  223,  230. 
Eskimos,  10,  28,  40,  54,  59,  60, 

182,  183,  189,  190,  200,  240. 


Eteocles,  167. 
Euahlayi  tribe,  225. 
Euripides,  96,  233. 
Euripides,  Helen  of,  58. 
Europe,  68,  loi. 
Europeans,  222. 
Evil  magic,  133. 
Evil  spirit,  130. 
Exorcism,  136. 

Fairy-story,  199. 

Farce,  227,  245. 

Feast,  "Inviting  In,"  54,  55. 

Feather  sticks,  209. 

Festival,  103. 

Festival  dance,  162. 

Fetish  man,  197. 

Fight,  mock,  160. 

Fighting,  10,  S3. 

Fijian  elders,  133. 

Fire  ceremony,  147. 

Fish-hawk  dance,  191. 

Fishing,  9,  25,  26,  54,  191,  202. 

Flute,  120,  121. 

Flute  player,  232. 

Food,  109. 

Food,  getting  of,  126. 

Food  supply,  27,  53,  132. 

Friendship  dance,  189. 

Fuegians,  66,  195. 

Future  world,  138. 

Greek  drama,  61,  97,  98,  103. 
Greeks,  drama  of,  112,  113,  114, 

120,  179,  181. 
Greek  dramatists,  240. 
Greek  federation,  105. 
Greek  plays,  170,  231,  244,  246, 

249. 
Greeks,  plays  of,  230. 


INDEX 


267 


Greek  poet,  108. 

Greek  stage,  166. 

Greek  theatre,  109. 

Greenland,  10. 

Greenlanders,  250. 

Guajiqueros,  220. 

Guardians,  129. 

Gestures,  loi. 

Gesture,  in  language,  14,  15,  16, 

18,  23. 
Ghosts,  environment  of,  6. 
Gin,  9. 

Gironiere,  de  la,  192. 
God,  mountain,  148. 
God,  rain,  76. 
God,  sun,  83. 
Goddess,  58. 
Goddess,  sun,  77. 
Gods,  favor  of,  174. 
Gods,  role  of,  148. 
Gods,  shrine  of,  180. 
Gods  of  vegetation,  6,  67,   90, 

96,  97,  98. 
Gods,  voice  of,  133. 
Gods,  war,  177. 
Good  Friday,  247. 
Graphic  art,  132. 
Graves  of  dead,  99. 
Great  Serpent,  202,  209,  210. 
Greece,  4,  6,  12,  58,  60,  90,  96, 

loi,  107,   109,   115,   118,   174, 

176,  178,  179,  233. 
Greeks,  4,   29,   59,  91,  99,    100, 

102,   104,   105,   114,   116,   126, 

130,  167,  190,  214,  232. 
Guiana,  Arawaks  of,  200. 
Guiana,  Indians  of,  194. 
Guilds,  105. 
Gurney,  105. 
Gymnastic  dance,  98,  184,  187. 


Haitians,  166. 

Harvest,  67. 

Hate  dance,  189. 

Havasupais,  73. 

Hero,  181,  202,  231. 

Hero  myth,  213. 

Hero's  tomb,  180. 

Higher  powers,  173. 

Hill  tribes  of  North  Aracan,  191. 

Hindostan,  12. 

Hindu  traditions,  212. 

His  Sepulchre,  182. 

Historic  incident,  160,  201,  209, 

226. 
Historical  events,  acting  of,  245. 
Historical  plays,  220. 
History,   18,  25,   132,   153,   164, 

184,  190,  223,  245,  248. 
History,  religious,  102. 
Homeric  Society,  53. 
Honduras,   Mosquito    tribes   of, 

194. 
Hopi  Indians,  68,  73,  202,  208- 

211. 
Hopi  Indians,  Snake  Dance  of, 

73ff,  115. 
Hopi  legend,  208. 
Hopi  Olympus,  208. 
Howitt,  192. 
Hunt,  seal,  183. 
"Hunter  and  the  Bird,"  200. 
Hunting,  8,  9,  18,  23,  25,  26,  34, 

37,  40,  44,  47,  S3,  54,  65,  66, 

92,  191,  202. 
Hunting  dance,  191. 
Hunting  rites,  192. 
Hypokrites,  104. 

Icaria,  179. 
Idols,  208. 


268 


INDEX 


Iguana,  139. 

Iliad,  S3. 

Imaginary  environment,  6,  60. 

Imaginative  feeling,  234. 

Imitate,  desire  to,  241. 

Imitate  movements  of  animals, 

187,  191. 
Imitation,  8,   12,  13,  14,  18,  20, 

24,  28,  40,  41,  42,  47,  51,  60, 

68,  102,  141,  222,  242. 
Imitation,  among  children,  9,  10, 

II. 
Imitation,  among  lower  animals, 

7; 
Imitations  of  animals,  128,  241. 
Imitative  desire  in  man,  194. 
Imitative  impulse,  173. 
Impersonation,  202. 
Impersonation  of  gods,  180. 
Impersonation  of  heroes,  180. 
India,  169,  178,  179. 
India,  women  on  stage,  116. 
Indian  warriors,  142. 
Indians,   18,  41,  60,  83,  89,  90, 

137. 
Indians  of  California,  191. 
Indians  of  the  Northwest  coast, 

54- 
Indians  of  the  plains,  68. 
Initiation,  25,  130,  131,  134,  189, 

197- 
Initiation,  animal,  228. 
Initiation  of  boys,  152. 
Initiation   ceremonies,    130,    131, 

142,  146,  175,  244,  248. 
Initiation  rites,  139. 
Initiation  by  wolves,  137. 
Initiatory  drama,  25. 
Ismene,  166. 
Isthmus  tribes,  191. 


"Instinct,"  dramatic  in  animals, 

8,  II. 
"Instinct,"  dramatic  in  man,  6, 

12. 
Interlude,  13. 
Inverted  language,  128. 
"Inviting  In"  feast,  54,  55. 
Iroquois,    201. 
Iroquois  dances,  168. 
Iroquois  song,  168. 
Isis,  96. 

"Jack  and  the  Bean  Stalk,"  200. 
Japan,  -j-j,  114,  115,  118,  179. 
Japanese,  91,  116,  120,  121. 
Java,  56,  179,  211,  216,  222,  232. 
Javanese,  212,  213,  214. 
Jealousy  dance,  189. 
Jews,  4. 
Jurupari  demon,  196. 

Kangaroo,  139,  144,  145,  196. 
Kangaroo,  man,  144. 
Kentucky,  201. 
Kina,  195. 
Kisi,  78,  79. 
Kivas,  74,  81,  202. 
Kojiki,  114. 
Kosa-Kaffirs,  47. 
"Kurdaitcha,"  159,  160. 
Kwakiutl,  175. 

Laity  as  actors,  179. 

Lang,  G.  S.,  227. 

Language,  14. 

Language,  gesture,    14,    15,    16, 

18,  23. 
Language,  sign,  15,  17,  18,  23. 
Language,  spoken,  16, 25. 
Last  Supper,  181. 


INDEX 


269 


Leading  roles,  177. 
Legendary  events,  209. 
Legends,  13,  20,  25,  73,  75,  81, 

86,  88,  90, 91, 95,  1 14,  138,  140, 

164,  186,  201. 
Lines,  25,  38,  119. 
Literature,  121. 

"Little  Red  Riding  Hood,"  200. 
Love  dance,  189. 
Love  dances,  indecent,  185. 
Love,  sacred,  128. 
Lucian's  Dialogue,  126. 
Lyre,  121. 

Magic,  141. 

Mahabharata,  212. 

Make-believe,  20,  242. 

Maluti  Bushman,  188. 

Manger  cradle,  182. 

Mandan  Indians,  48. 

Mandans  of  the  plains,  141. 

Maories,  38. 

Marionettes,  208. 

Masai,  170. 

Masked  actors,  203,  205-208,  210. 

Masked  dances,  196. 

Masked  figures,  198. 

Masked  girls,  208. 

Masks,  48,  53-60,  83,  104,  116, 

117,  204,  208,  211. 
Masks,  grotesque,  150. 
Mass,  82,  112. 
Master  Dalangs,  214. 
Mattair  Bay  Islands,  196. 
Mediaeval      Christian      dramas, 

181. 
Mediaeval  Europe,  178. 
Medicine  bowl,  209. 
Medicine-man,    22,    37,    39,    69, 

106,  169,  177. 


Men  impersonate  gods,  148. 
Mexico,  244. 
Mexico,  drama  of,  219. 
Middle  Ages,  113,  190,  198. 
Middle  Ages,  church  dramas  of, 

178. 
Middle  Ages,  church  of,  103. 
Middle  Ages,  morality  plays  of, 

126. 
Middle  Ages,  people  of,  29. 
Middle  Ages,  plays  of,  179,  244, 

246,  248,  249. 
Mimetic  art,  128. 
Mimetic  dance,  98,  99,  lOl,  184. 
Mimetic  representation,  8,  9,  36, 

72. 
Mimic  combat,  221. 
Mimic  hunt,  161,  193. 
Mimicking    action    of    animals, 

190. 
Mimicry,  loi,  139,  218,  239,  249. 
Miracle  plays,  181,  248. 
Moral  code  of  tribe,  125. 
Moral  standards,  26. 
Moral  teachers,  126. 
Moral  teaching,  215. 
Morality,  offences  against,  129. 
Morality  plays,  128,  248. 
Morality  plays  of  Middle  Ages, 

126. 
Mores,  9,  40,  128. 
Mortuary  rites,  166. 
Mountain  god,  148. 
"Mud  heads,"  210. 
Mura-Muras,  70,  71. 
Murray  Islands,  193. 
Music,  25,  38,  52,  99,  100,  118, 

128,   161,   184,  201,  206,  220, 

221,  232. 
Musical  instruments,  I2I. 


270 


INDEX 


Musicians,  88,  105,  220. 

Mystery  plays,  181,  211. 

Mystery  plays  at  Eleusis,  180. 

Mystic  dances,  119. 

Myth,  nature,  96. 

Mythical  ancestors,  127,  135. 

Mythical  events,  201,  209. 

Mythological  history,  212. 

Myths,  13,  20,  43,  54,  55,  86,  90, 
91.  95.  97,  98,  113,  "5.  140, 
153,  164,  186,  188,  199,  205. 

Naga  tribes  of  North  East  India, 

169. 
Narrative,  18. 
Nature  myth,  96. 
New  Britain,  42,  43. 
New  Guinea,  imitation,  148. 
New  Guinea,  Papuans  of,  193. 
New  Mexico,  83. 
New  Pomerania,  198. 
New  South  Wales,  139. 
New  Spain,  Indians  of,  50. 
New  Testament,  247. 
"No  plays,"    57,  -jT,   114,   115, 

117,  118,  121. 
Nootka  Indians,  136,  137. 
North    America,    92,    136,    194, 

201. 
North  America,  peoples  of,  182. 
North  American  Indians,  202. 
Novice,  128,  129,  136,  137,  146, 

147. 

Ober-Ammergau,  182,  233. 

Odyssey,  53. 

Old  men,  132. 

Old  Testament,  248. 

Omahas,  185. 

Onkos,  58. 


Ophelia,  200. 

Opossum,  49. 

Opossum  men,  50. 

Orchestra,  51,  213,  227,  228. 

Orestes,  59. 

Orient,  118. 

Origin  of  drama,  114. 

Origin  of  man,  20. 

Origm  of  Savage  plays,  108. 

Orpen,  Joseph  M.,  188,  189. 

Osiris,  96. 

Other  World,  91. 

Other  World,  members  of,  158. 

Pageants,  245. 

Painting  bodies,  186. 

Paiutes,  73. 

Palatkwabi,  209. 

Paliilakoiiti,  202. 

Pantomime,  18,  48,  49,  102,  164, 

183. 
Pantomime,  crude,  239. 
Pantomimic  dances,  170. 
Pantomimic  dancing,  185,  193. 
Parallelism,  13. 
Passion  Play,  182,  233. 
Peasant  actors,  182. 
Performers,  141. 
Persia,  13. 

Personating  the  god,  208. 
Peru,  83,  244. 
Peruvians,  13,  216. 
Petitions,  114,  173. 
Plains-Cree,  41. 
Plains  Indians,  17,  68,  84,  90. 
Plant  Ceremonies,  157. 
Planting,  66,  67. 
Platonic  Dialogues,  95. 
Play,  5,  174. 
Play-cycles,  178. 


INDEX 


271 


Play-making,  239. 

Players,  52,  57. 

Plays  as  school,  146. 

Plays,  comic,  53. 

Plays,  totem,  27. 

Philippine  Islands,  192. 

Phrynichus,  59. 

Poems,  134. 

Poetic  feeling,  234. 

Poetry,  11,  53,  99,  100,  119. 

Poets,  III,  232. 

Polynesian    Islands,     222,    223, 

231. 
Polynesian     Islands,    Areoi     of, 

175- 
Polynesians,  176,  231,  233. 
Polynesian  song,  167. 
Polynices,  166. 
Ponca,  85. 

Prayer,  70,  75,  76,  81,  82,  88. 
Prayer  for  rain,  82. 
Priests,   53,   87,    in,    118,    176, 

178,  217,  219,  248. 
Priests    as    active    worshippers, 

176. 
Priests  as  mediators,  177. 
Priestly  class,  22,  103. 
Priestess,  176. 
Priests,  war,  177. 
Prince  of  Wales  Island,  162. 
Prince  of  Wales  Islanders,  43. 
Professional  trainer,  232. 
Prologue,  70. 

Properties,  stage,  119,  120. 
Propitiation,  37,  81,  84. 
Puberty,  age  of,  25,  125,  127,  131, 

153.  197- 
Puberty  initiatory  rites,  126. 
Pueblo,  83. 
Pueblo  Indians,  191. 


Puppet,  shows,  212. 
Puppets,  212,  213,  214. 
Purpose  of  the  theatre,  173. 

Quabara,  135. 
Queensland,  72. 
'Qing,  188. 

Rain,  23,  39,  109,  112,  131,  157. 

Rain  ceremonies,  67,  70,  74. 

Rain  dance,  68. 

Rain  god,  76. 

Rain-maker,  68. 

Rain-making,  69,  73,  81. 

Rain  prayer,  82. 

Rain  totem,  39. 

Ramayama,  212. 

Rattles,  78. 

Reaping,  66. 

Religious  ceremonies,  37,  60. 

Religious  drama,  71,  90,  106. 

Religious     dramas    of   petition, 

22. 
Religious  fraternities,  209. 
Religious  history,  102. 
Religious  plays,  233. 
Religious  totem,  190. 
Religious  tradition,  96. 
Religious  zeal,  89. 
Rehearsals,  219. 
Rhombos,  thunder-god,  130. 
Ridgeway,  179. 
Ritual,  22,  25,  61,  97,  175. 
Ritual  of  the  deity,  180. 
River  of  Heaven,  115. 
Robinson  Crusoe,  10. 
Rock  Wallabies,  192. 
R6le,  208,  218. 
Roles,  leading,  36,  51,  106. 
Roles,  minor,  37. 


272 


INDEX 


Roman  actors,  io6. 

Roman  Catholic  Church,  82,  176, 

182. 
Roman  Catholic  Church,  mass  in, 

112^  246,  247. 
Rome,  178. 

Rome,  acting  profession  in,  217. 
Rotuna,  224. 
Rural  Dionysia,  108. 
Russia,  200. 
Rhythm,  52,  98,  99,  162. 

Sacred  Ceremonies,  147. 

Sacred  dead,  181. 

Sacred  dramatic  societies,  176. 

Sacred  love,  128. 

Samoa,  222,  225. 

San  Ildefonso,  83. 

Sarawak,  natives  of,  168. 

Satyrs,  103. 

Savage  love  dances,  185. 

Savage  relationship  with  whites, 

222. 
Scenery,  119. 
Screen,  212. 

Sea  Dyaks  of  Borneo,  164. 
Secret  houses,  197. 
Secret  societies,  136,  197. 
Secrets  of  tribe,  125. 
Self-maintenance,  40. 
Serpents,  204,  207,  210. 
Serpent   effigies,   206,   207,   209, 

210. 
Serpent  worship,  81. 
"Seven  Against  Thebes,"   166. 
Shadow,  212. 
Shinto  Shrines,  117. 
Shrine,  179. 
Sicyon,  181. 
Sign  language,  15,  17,  18,  23. 


Signe  Rink,  10. 

Singers,  49,   103,   iii,   196,  214, 

220. 
Singing,  52,  72,  ^S,  loi,  107,  118, 

131.   137.    143.  149.  163,  189, 

195,  202,  219,  250. 
Skanlet  tribes  of  British  Colum- 
bia, 191. 
Snakes,  75,  76,  78,  79,  81,  82. 
Snake-Antelope  fraternities,  205. 
Snake  dance,  68,  73,  75,  80,  81, 

86. 
Snake   dance   of  Hopi    Indians, 

115. 
Snake  Mother,  82. 
Snake  peoples,  74,  77,  78. 
Snake  priest,  80. 
Snowy  River,  226. 
Societes  joyeuses,  179. 
Socrates,  95. 
Solon,  126,  180,  182. 
Song,  hunting,  49. 
Song,  words  of,  49. 
Songs,  26,  38,  46,  88,   100,  102, 

128,.  141,    143,    145,    169,   176, 

201,  204,  247. 
Sophocles,  96,  121,  233. 
Sophocles,  Elektra  of,  59. 
Sophocles,  (Edipus  Tyrannus  of, 

58. 
Soul,  138. 

South  America,  83. 
South  Sea  Islanders,  13,  224. 
South  Seas,  196. 
Sowing,  66. 
Spanish  Conquest,  6. 
Spectators,    91,    120,    142,    174, 

I7S>  176,  207,  228. 
Speech,  1$. 
Spider  Woman,  74,  81,  205. 


INDEX 


273 


Spirits,  20,  21,  23,  28,  35,  37, 
53,  54,  56,  60,  61,  69,  81,  91, 
97.  157.  158,  177.  234. 

Spirits,  animal,  40. 

Spirits,  appeals  to,  109. 

Spirits  of  dead,  21,  22,  92. 

Spirits,  environment  of,  6. 

Spirit  world,  23,  37,  66,  86,  157, 
197. 

Spoken     language,     inadecjuate, 

234- 
Spoken  language,  16,  25. 
Stage,   144,  201,  217,   227,  228, 

232. 
Stage  properties,  201. 
Stage-settings,  51,  84,  87,  201. 
Stage-setting  for  initiation,  Aus- 
tralia, 142. 
Staging,  118. 
Stories,  13. 
Story  telling,  183. 
Strolling  players,  179,  181,  198. 
Struggle  for  existence,  6,  28,  29, 

60,  183,  243. 
Subincision,  147. 
Sun,  82,  90,  109,  112,  114,  157, 

203. 
Sun  ceremonies,  82. 
Sun  dance,  68,  84,  86,  88,  89,  90. 
Sun  dance,  stage  setting,  84-87. 
Sun  god,  83,  97. 
Sun  goddess,  77,  115. 
Sun,  personification  of,  97. 
Sun  worship,  82,  83,  96,  114. 
Supplication,  109. 
Survival,  loi,  164. 
Sympathetic   Magic,   8,    24,   26, 
27.  36,  39.  42.  44.  S3.  65,  68, 
109,   114,   158,   170,  243,  245, 
246. 


Tambourines,  189. 
Tasmanians,  17,  42. 
Temple,  in,  113,  218. 
Temple  of  god,  109,  no. 
Theatre,  109,  197,  175. 
Theatre  as  school,  127. 
Theatre  for  religion,  127. 
Theatre  of  Dionysus,  at  Athens, 

105. 
Theatre,  outdoors,  218. 
Theatrical  exhibition,  208. 
Thebes,  166. 

Thespis,  59,  179,  180,  182,  219. 
Thunder,  131. 
"Thunder  bird,"  84,  87,  89. 
Thunder-god,  Rhombos,  130. 
Tidal  wave,  imitation  of,  222. 
Tiyo,  74,  75. 
Tlatelulco,  217. 
To-ho-na-bi,  73. 
Toping,  56. 

Torres  Straits,  natives  of,  54. 
Tortures,  89. 
Totem,  25,   35,  36,  37,  40,  43, 

106,  127,   128,  138,  139,   147, 

153.    177.    197.   200- 
Totem    animal,   26,   35,   44,    54, 
56,    60,    140,    141,    144,    146, 

245- 
Totem  bear,  140. 
Totem  ceremonies,  26,  66,  244. 
Totem  design,  131. 
Totem  myths,  145. 
Totem  plant,  35,  245. 
Totem  plays,  27,  49. 
Totem,  rain,  35,  39. 
Totem,  religious,  190. 
Totem,  sun,  35. 
Totem,  water,  39,  69. 
Totem,  Witchetty  Grub,  44-47. 


274 


INDEX 


Traditions,    136,    145,    177,   224, 

225,  240. 
Tragedies,  13,  104,  iii,  127,  180, 

216,  227,  245. 
Tragic  dance,  loi. 
Tragic  performance,  198. 
Training  school  for  boys,  153. 
Tribal  god,  130. 
Tshi-speaking  people,  170,  176. 
Tunantins  river,  196. 

Unconscious  drama,  13,  28. 

Under\vorld,  74,  82. 

Union  of  dance  and  drama,  186. 

Vegetation  ceremonies,  5,  61. 
Vegetation,   gods  of,   6,  67,  90, 

96,  97,  98. 
Vegetation,  personification  of,  97. 
Vegetation  rites,  246. 
Vere,  133. 

Vices,  126,  127,  248. 
Vine,  personification  of,  97. 
Virtues,  126,  127,  248. 

Wa-Tonga  of  the  Barne,  47. 
Wajang,  212,  213,  215. 
Wajang,    purpose    of,    pleasure, 

teaching,  religion,  215. 
Waninga,  144,  145. 
War,  161,  162. 
War  ceremonies,  177. 
War  dance,  27,  158-170,  226. 
Warfare,  191. 


War  gods,  177. 

War  party,  142. 

War  play,  168,  170. 

War  priests,  177. 

Warriors,  27,  89. 

Water  totem,  39. 

Whitmee,  M.,  224. 

Wild-dog,  144. 

Wine-god,  worship  of,  1 10. 

Wolf-masks,  137. 

Wolf  ritual,  136. 

Wolf  spirits,  136. 

Wolves,  136,  137. 

Women  acting,  222. 

Women,  chorus  of,  188. 

Women  as  Orchestra,  51. 

Women  not  on  stage,  Greece,  107. 

Women  on  stage,  166. 

Women's  roles,  57. 

Women  unclean,  37. 

Words  of  plays,  Japan,  118. 

Worship,  96,  98. 

Worship  of  dead  heroes,  167. 

Worship  of  the  sun,  114. 

Worship  of  wine-god,  no. 

Worshippers,  no,  113. 

Wurtja,  145. 

"Yah,"  129. 

Yucatan,  Mayas  of,  219. 

Yukon,  184. 

Zambezia,  47. 
Zuiiis,  16,  73. 


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